


Hiraeth

by acris_kerd



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: The Ocarina of Time
Genre: After a lot of hitting, Badass Link, Consensual Sex, Depression, Developing Relationship, Enemies to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers to Friends, Eventual Smut, Ganondorf is an ass, Gerudo Culture, I take liberties with the Triforce, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, M/M, Magic, Manipulative Ganondorf, Masturbation, Not a typo, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Racism, Slow Burn, Suicidal Thoughts, They have a lot to work through, Torture, Trauma, Trying to keep it as believable as possible, Violence, eventually, ganlink, very slow
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-13
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:42:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 15
Words: 56,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28052628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acris_kerd/pseuds/acris_kerd
Summary: Link defeats Ganon and wins peace for Hyrule, but victory doesn't mean everyone gets a happy ending. In his final moments, Ganon drags Link with him into his prison. What do you do when you're facing an eternity of imprisonment with the one man you despise the most?
Relationships: Ganondorf/Link (Legend of Zelda)
Comments: 165
Kudos: 392





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I've been working on this for over a year. I have 20 chapters finished, 10 of them proofread. I will try to update once a week. If you have time or feel so compelled, comments would be super appreciated! Hope you all enjoy!

Link felt the crush of bone and the soft pulp of brain matter give way under his sword. It traveled through the hilt, crawling up his arm even as he sunk the blade deeper into Ganon’s skull. The moment brought the rage of their battle, of months spent fighting and years suffering, to a time-shattering stop. The beast’s eyes bulged in shock and pain. Link almost didn’t believe it himself. Finality, grim and absolute, bore down on them both. The wall of flame that encircled the two adversaries dimmed. Zelda immediately seized her opportunity, ensnaring the demon king with a blast of power to hold him down.

“Sages!” She screamed wildly, straining to hold Ganon’s now thrashing form. “Quickly! Seal him away!”

A punishing, golden light enveloped his body. Though he struggled, the battle had drained him. He was helpless against the combined strength of the Sages. Link yanked the Master Sword out of Ganon’s head with an unpleasant squelch, stepping back as his friends and companions took over from there. Exhaustion as he’d never known weighed upon every inch of his body. Untreated wounds throbbed distantly, numbed by adrenaline. Navi fluttered over his ear, anxiously gripping the long cartilage and whispering soft words.

Link couldn’t quiet his heaving breathing as the enemy writhed in defeat before him. Finally, _finally,_ he was done.

He had hardly dared to release a whisper of the tension coiled throughout his shoulders when Navi suddenly shouted in alarm. Ganon’s large corpse-blue tongue lashed out to twist around his leg before he could dodge. An instinctual yelp escaped his mouth as the muscle pulled, knocking him off his feet. Immediately, he buried his sword into the broken stones, a dull clang echoing off the rocks. Link held on desperately as Ganon’s squeezing tongue threatened to break his bones, frantically searching for another blade as Zelda screamed his name. Blood slicked fingers found a small carving knife in his pouch, savagely hacking through the thick muscle until the pressure released.

Link scrambled to his feet as Ganon howled, but victory was short lived.

“Link, watch out!”

In an instant, one of Ganon’s massive, clawed hands replaced the tongue, gripping around his chest. Link felt his skin break as claws dug in with the ferocity of a drowning man, as though Ganon planned on crawling out of his forthcoming pit using Link’s beaten body. Zelda’s burning golden light seared closer, spreading around his own snared form. Link’s hand, slick with blood, lost grip on the Master Sword’s hilt as he frantically tried to peel away the sinking claws. The beast roared above him, enraged and broken by inevitable defeat.

“ _Link!_ ” Zelda screamed, her arms outstretched as golden light continued pouring into Ganon. And now Link.

He grunted, falling to the ground and redoubling his efforts to escape even as the beast dragged him closer. Navi pulled desperately at his shirt. Link caught sight of the glowing light start to consume her as well. Without thinking, he roughly smacked her away from him. Navi flew back and crashed into a chunk of rubble, sliding to the ground. Link winced, but there was no time to focus on his unconscious fairy. He had to get away from Ganon. The monster’s grip was entirely too strong. The demon king squeezed impossibly tighter, and it was all he could do to keep the claws from crushing his ribs. He couldn’t get them off. Panicked, he looked to Zelda, whose own wide eyes were overcome with horror.

“Princess! You cannot stop your attack!” Impa’s thundering voice echoed over the howling wind as Zelda faltered.

For one heart-stopping moment, she feared the beast would escape with that tiniest of opportunities. His power threatened to overwhelm her, but the Sages quickly came to her aid. She felt them standing as though beside her, and perhaps they were, before the glowing light intensified. From somewhere within, she heard Link scream.

“No! _NO!_ ” She choked, but it was too late.

A blinding flash erupted from the struggling forms before her. It completely consumed them, consumed everything. The howl in the wind was deafening as her eyes instinctually squeezed shut. The force of her power came to a head, seeming to wield her rather than the other way around, and then, all too suddenly, it halted. It felt like something was yanked from her grasp and pulled far out of reach. The terrible force she’d been grappling against vanished, as though it never existed, and the empty silence that followed on the battlefield was perhaps more deafening than the previous howls.

Zelda found she couldn’t move. Her arms remained outstretched, reaching towards someone who was not there. Link’s sword remained buried in the ground, but the Hero himself was nowhere to be found. The awful truth of it all was too much to bear. It simply couldn’t be possible.

“Impa.” Zelda barely recognized her own voice. “Impa, where is he?”

Her guardian, the closest person she’d ever had to a mother, did not answer for a long, staggering moment. She felt the real weight of a hand fall on her shoulder, felt the sorrow of her silence.

“…I…I’m sorry, Zelda.”

The Princess shook her head. It just couldn’t be possible.

“W-We have to get him out!” She stammered, spinning around to see not just one, but all of the Sages gathered behind her.

Their faces were a mixture of horror, anguish, and solemn grief.

“Zelda’s right.” Saria’s small voice squeaked, short of breath in growing panic. Her hands twisted together as she stared at the lone Master Sword with wide, disbelieving eyes. She had known Link since he was an infant.

“We cannot.” Impa spoke softly, but with immoveable finality. The little Korkiri flinched.

“We can’t just leave him there.” Zelda breathed, scandalized. “With _him_?”

“Zelda, if we tamper with the seal in _any_ capacity, Ganon will escape. You witnessed his power. He nearly overcame you with a mere second of hesitation.”

Zelda could not believe what she was hearing. She couldn’t bear the missing presence by her side. He was supposed to be with them, standing strong and silent as he always had before. After all, they _won_.

“He sacrificed everything for us! He gave us everything and never _once_ complained! You would leave him to such an awful fate? An eternity sealed with his greatest enemy?” Zelda’s throat constricted against her will, furious tears spilling upon hearing her own words and seeing Impa’s pained, but unshakeable resolve.

“You won’t even _try_?” she finally whispered.

It seemed Impa was beyond words herself. She took in a rare, shuddering breath, the closest Zelda had ever seen her weep. Her purple eyes lifted away to gaze distantly at the empty battlefield. It was with a broken tenderness that she spoke her next words, but they still fell on Zelda’s ears with an agonizing cruelty.

“He was prepared to give his life... Understanding such sacrifice, would you have us risk the lives of a thousand others to spare his?”

“This is a fate far worse than death.” Zelda’s voice felt like knives in her throat.

Impa closed her eyes against the truth in her words. The broken betrayal in her young Princess’ face was too much to bear.

“We restrained Ganon once. Surely we could do it again, from within the Sacred Realm? Just long enough to pull Link out?” Saria whispered, looking to the other sages for support.

Ruto nodded in agreement, her face ashen. Nabooru and Rauru remained pensive. Darunia punched the ground with both of his great fists, shaking the earth around them and bellowing in anger.

“Brother Link deserves a chance! We owe it to him to try!”

“We cannot let our earthly friendships cloud our duty as Sages.” Spoke Rauru.

“We cannot let our duty as Sages turn us as cold and pitiless as Ganon himself.” Ruto clipped.

Rauru’s face pinched, a thread of desperation leaking into his voice as he implored reason.

“This is near blasphemous. We _cannot_ open the Sacred Realm and risk releasing his evil into the world again, especially after everything it took to get him in! Such action, by the Sages sworn to suppress him no less, will undo us! It will throw the order of Nayru herself into chaos, and more than Ganon’s darkness will be given purchase to rein. We _cannot_ risk such action. I implore you Sages. The loss of the Hero of Time is a pain unmeasured, but to grant such chaos a boon would be an insult to all his efforts, nay, to the Goddess’ themselves. We _cannot_ open the seal.”

Darunia punched the ground again, a roar erupting from his throat. His fury dispersed, bowing to the heavy grief that settled upon his massive frame. Saria was crying now, small sobs shaking her shoulders as she wept into her hands. Zelda could tell she was losing them, but deep down, a traitorous part of her knew she was losing herself.

The call of divine duty superseded all, even such intimate matters of the heart. This was their burden to bear, for the sake of all of Hyrule. Though a fire inside her howled in rebellion, she remained the bearer of the Triforce of Wisdom. The truth in Rauru’s words was undeniable, even if it made her heart break in anguish. Perhaps if she held a different piece of the Triforce, things would be different. But as it was, she did not have the courage to betray her Goddess. 

“Is there nothing we can do?” the Princess whispered, a final desperate plea.

The silence that answered was answer enough.

A sweet wind began to blow across the forsaken battlefield. Where once dark swirling clouds stormed above, a soft blue sky poked through and mocked her. Sunlight flittered down, touching upon rock and earth that had been cast in shadow for seven long painful years. Zelda looked across the empty arena, as though waiting to see her Hero crawl from the rubble. The sunlight caught on his sword, creating a flash that left as quickly as a ghost. There it gleamed, in hollow victory, as the most tentative of birdsong began to echo across the valley. Zelda felt more tears slide down her face, this time borne from a bone-deep sorrow she knew would follow her to the grave.

The world began to awaken from its long slumber under Ganon’s darkness, and the Master Sword remained standing in silent memoriam.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Man I hope this is decent. I've gone over it so many times I can't tell anymore. I tried to include some art I drew for it cause I'm a dweeb, but I couldn't get it to work. D: I put it up on my tumblr instead, which is also acris-kerd, for those who are interested. (https://acris-kerd.tumblr.com/)

Ganondorf raged and spewed hate-filled curses as his grip squeezed ever tighter around Link’s torso. They were falling. Falling in a void of white and emptiness. It seemed to go on forever. Link struggled for breath, pushing against the iron grip keeping him pinned against his enemy’s chest.

“CURSE YOU, ZELDA!” The Gerudo bellowed again. “CURSE YOU, SAGES! I still wield the Triforce of Power! When this seal breaks, I’ll see your decedents _rot!_ ”

Link coughed and choked on a bubble of blood as the larger man accentuated his last word with a vicious squeeze. He felt the intensity of his gaze fall to him, a sudden wild laughter erupting out, as though he’d just now realized Link was there.

“ _Sanctimonious_ _fools_! This is far from over!” Ganondorf cackled madly. “You damn your own Hero! _He_ _will_ _pay in blood for your transgressions!_ ”

Link winced. That didn’t sound good.

Their falling accelerated, stretching out Ganondorf’s nightmarish laughter until it was little more than a heinous cacophony. The endless white seemed to race past them. They continued falling, falling into somewhere as cold and empty as the white void itself. Without warning, the ground of this new place rose up to meet them. Link wasn’t sure if they crashed into it, or if it crashed into them. He supposed it didn’t much matter. It hurt just the same.

Gray earth slowed their assault upon it, a long gouge left behind as Ganondorf’s back caught the brunt of the fall. Link hardly appreciated the cushion, winded and gasping. The larger man hadn’t let up one iota of strength keeping him pinned. Whatever lung capacity Link had left was wiped out. There was undoubtedly a cracked rib or two under that arm.

He continued gasping for air, scratching and pulling more desperately. Miraculously, or perhaps because Ganondorf was too dazed from the impact, the monstrous man lessened his grip enough for Link to take a haggard inhale. His ribs screamed in protest, but he didn’t care. With the business of much needed oxygen concluded, he swiftly moved to his next priority: getting the hell away from Ganondorf.

He wiggled his way out from under the lax arm as quickly as possible, gritting his teeth as fractured ribs gave protest. At the last second Ganon must have realized what Link was doing. He quickly tried to redouble his grip, catching the tail of Link’s hat against his arm instead. In a fit of madness, Link thought about making a wild grab for it before remembering the Gerudo’s chilling threat. He winced, quickly turning to scramble away.

“Oh no you don’t.” A deep groan rumbled behind him, sending chills crawling up his spine.

Before he could get out of reach, a large hand tangled in his hair, yanking him back. Link thrashed, looking for any weak point on the man’s body and kicking it. Ganondorf growled, rolling on top of him and digging his knee into Link’s bruised abdomen, heedless to his agonized gasp. He jerked him roughly by the hair to halt his struggles, forcing him to look up.

“You miserable forest _brat!_ ”

Without thinking, Link spit in his face. It was stupid, very stupid. But he didn’t realize just how stupid until it was already done. Ganondorf roared, furious beyond words now. Link had the tiniest desperate hope that his anger would make him clumsy, giving him another chance to escape, before a fist the size of a deku baba smashed into his face.

Tiny stars clouded his vision as the hand in his hair disappeared and another fist smashed into the opposite side of his face. Link fumbled blindly, trying to bring his arms up in defense as his vision swam. Ganondorf roughly grabbed his hands and pinned them against his sides, moving to straddle Link’s waist and keep his arms locked. Link’s heart jumped into his throat, pinned and vulnerable below an adversary more than twice his size.

Another punch buried itself into the flesh of his skull, and then another. There was barely time to take a breath between each hit. Ganon rained down with uninhibited hatred. Link desperately tried to pull his hands free, tried to thrust the larger man off. Skin broke against skin as he struggled to stay conscious, panic blinding him. He couldn’t catch a breath. Ganondorf was beating him to death. A hand gripped around his neck and forced his face up, keeping him from ducking his head for any meager protection. He wanted to pass out. He wanted this to be _over._

“ _S-s-stop_ …” He gurgled desperately, eyes rolling.

Unbelievably, mercifully, he did. Silence passed.

“…So you do speak.” Ganon said coldly, low voice rumbling in Link’s bleeding ears.

Link had no more words after that. It was all he could do to focus on breathing and remembering where he was. The silence above stretched longer. Link heaved with the struggle to breathe, coughing blood. Everything hurt. Everything hurt and he couldn’t see through the red swimming in his eyes. There was a threat somewhere close but he _couldn’t move_. Was he stuck under a rock?

Suddenly the rock moved, and a vice-like grip wrapped around his upper arm, yanking him up. Link’s head lolled. He couldn’t seem to get his feet to work properly. A voice spoke too close to his ear, and the familiarity of it made him flinch violently. He couldn’t understand what he said, but it was undeniably threatening. Link braced himself for another attack, but instead the bruising grip moved to his wrist.

The figure started walking, dragging Link’s limp body with him. It took only a few steps before blessed darkness finally over took, and his final addled thought was wondering where he had left his hat.

***

Pain greeted Link first upon waking, followed by the realization that he was very uncomfortable. Not an altogether unusual combination, but the chilling air of death left him feeling unsettled.

Thoughts came slowly, sluggishly. He couldn’t remember how he gotten here, wherever _here_ was. Distantly, he recognized the signs of head trauma, unable to remember how it had happened. His face ached, like he’d repeatedly smashed it against the rocks of Death Mountain.

Eventually it occurred to him how quiet his surroundings were. Not even a drip of water broke the silence pressing on his eardrums. He tried to move, but his limbs didn’t seem to want to cooperate. Most of his body was like that. It took herculean effort just to open his eyes.

Darkness met him, eyelids folding under a caked layer of blood. He slowly became aware that his entire face felt like that, taut with cracking, dried blood. For a long time he just laid there, taking deep, slow breaths and practicing how to blink. He’d had concussions before, and understood the importance of taking it slow if time allowed.

The most confusing part was Navi’s absence. Usually she was flitting around his head by now, cleaving his mind in two with her anxious twittering and bright fairy light. It took longer than it should have for the alarm of her missing presence to sink in. Navi would never leave his side if she could help it, especially if he were this injured.

Something was terribly wrong.

He couldn’t afford to lay there much longer. He wasn’t even sure how much time had passed since he’d opened his eyes. With all the will power he could muster, Link forced his body to roll over, nearly passing out from the subsequent pounding in his skull. His groan didn’t travel far. Wherever he was, it was a small room. Link willed his body move, pushing through the sluggishness of his mind and trying to ignore how every twitch in his face set off waves of pain. It took a long time to get to his knees, hands reaching out in the darkness to find purchase on a wall. Instead they met the cold iron of bars, and he felt his stomach drop.

A prison. Somehow he’d ended up in a prison. The missing weight of his weapons suddenly made itself apparent, and his mood quickly darkened.

Begrudgingly, he used the strong bars as leverage to heave himself into a standing position. It was only by gripping them with both hands that he managed to stay upright. It took another moment to steady the unending dizziness. With a trembling hand, he dared touch his face. It was very swollen, and very much covered in dried blood. In fact, he wasn’t entirely convinced part of the darkness wasn’t caused by his eyes having swollen shut.

“Navi…” He rasped out, voice like sandpaper. When was the last time he had water?

Silence answered him, but Link wasn’t surprised. He’d barely heard his own voice. The only confirmation he’d spoken was the lingering scratching sensation in his throat. He coughed to clear it, and immediately regretted the decision. His mind swam, mirroring the nausea in his stomach. Goddesses, he hated concussions.

A nagging prickle of danger ticked behind the pain of his injuries. He felt like he was missing something calamitous, growing more frustrated with the fog that refused to lift from his mind. The more he tried to think, the more a budding pain in his skull bloomed, crippling him.

“Navi!” he forced out angrily, impatient with his condition.

Deep down, he couldn’t ignore the icy dread of his own fear, twisting shamefully in his gut and making his legs feel as brittle as used kindling. His voice felt like gravel and rung painfully in his ears, wherein something warm had pooled. It dripped thickly onto the cuff of his tunic. Sweat broke out over his brow. Through the thickening fear, he felt unbelievably exhausted. Losing strength in his legs, Link crumpled to the floor, back resting against the cool bars of his prison.

Absently, he noted the floor was made of dirt, and thought of tunneling out. Then an encroaching darkness snuck up on him, and he knew no more.

***

The second time he woke was significantly worse than the first. A flickering torchlight roused him from his place on the floor, the soft light piercing his head even through closed eyelids. He’d fallen over, or was perhaps moved? His arms felt awkward. Link tried to shift them and immediately noticed they were in chains behind his back. Alarm woke him more forcefully, eyes snapping open only to shut just as quickly. The torchlight seemed impossibly bright. More importantly, someone had been here and felt compelled to further imprison him. Perhaps they were still there.

Link took another, more steadying breath. He forced his eyes to crack open and was not comforted by what he saw.

The offending torch flickered in its bracket, an empty, wooden chair placed directly below. Beside it was a heavy iron door, the only way in or out of the small dungeon. His cell was oppressive in size, crowded into a corner like an after thought. Only a small, unsavory looking wooden bucket next to a drain were in the cell with him. He tried not to think about what that meant.

In the adjacent corner, there loomed a large wooden X-frame identical to ones he once saw at the bottom of a well. Manacles bolted to the top and bottom of the frame made its purpose all too clear. To drive the point home, a series of whips hung hooked to the wall. Other than that, the room was empty. There were no windows. No way to tell how much time was passing. And it was cold, as though the entire room were set into the Earth. Link had an ugly feeling he was in a particularly large coffin rather than a small dungeon.

His head ached, but it was better than before. His vision no longer swam, and though the torchlight was uncomfortable, he was able to adjust to the glow. He needed to take advantage of the light. There was no telling if his captors would grant him this luxury again.

Forcefully, ignoring the deep throbbing that spiked as he moved, Link dragged himself to his knees. From this position, he could give a baleful glare to the chain that snaked from the wall behind him and attached to manacles binding his wrists. Breaking out of them would be the first thing he did once the room stopped spinning.

Deciding to think about that later, Link instead willed himself to focus on the bars of his cell, inching as close as he could on his knees. Unfortunately, the hinges and bolts were more sophisticated than cells he’d been in previously. He wouldn’t be able to bust them off with levered strength, not that he had much to lever with anyway. Whoever had captured him clearly knew what they were doing. It took longer than it should have to locate the deadbolt, too. The sluggishness plaguing his mind refused to relent, highlighting how difficult it would be to escape in his current condition.

“Dammit…” Link swore quietly, sitting back on his heels.

Hopefully his emergency lock picks were still in his hair. The ponytail had come lose, and with a twinge of sadness, he noticed his hat was missing too. With his available options for escape dangerously low, Link shifted until his hands could scratch at the packed earth floor. Any lingering hopes were soon dashed when digging fingers met stone.

A tickle of anxiety, spiked with something close to fear, began to itch under his skin. Desperation leaked in. Link squeezed his eyes shut and bent his head back as far as he could, twisting his spine to allow his bound hands a better reach up to his dangling pony tail. It was painful, and disorienting. He nearly lost his balance and toppled over before his fingers grazed against the thin sticks of metal discreetly lodged in his hair.

As vertigo heaved, elation jumped in his chest. Racing against the black spots appearing in his vision, he pulled the lock picks from their secure knot. They dropped to the floor soundlessly. He snapped back into a normal position, panting from exertion, and blindly snatched up the tiny tines of metal to feel the relief of their presence.

The room spun in wild circles. He had to take a few moments to reorient himself, but couldn’t afford too long. Now would not be an ideal time for his captor to make an appearance. Link pushed through the pounding headache to scoot back against the wall, burying his only hope for escape in the cove joint directly below the chain. Only when the earth was packed back into place did he let his muscles relax, sagging against the cold gray wall.

Sweat beaded across his forehead, loosening flakes of dried blood. For a while, Link listened to the sound of his own heavy breathing as it fell flat in the small prison. The singular sound mocked him, highlighting how very much alone he was in this latest predicament.

Navi was still missing.

A sinking sense of loneliness began weighing heavily on his chest. He didn’t like being alone, no matter how much fate seemed determined to make it his reality. Link swallowed thickly, trying to think back to what happened, to how he _got_ here. He couldn’t rely on his fairy friend right now. She might even be in danger herself. He grimaced at the thought.

There wasn’t much else to do but rest and regain his strength. He wouldn’t be able to break out of the manacles and maneuver an escape with a pounding concussion hindering his every move. He assumed someone would come by to check on him eventually. If the whipping frame was any indication, they didn’t intend to leave him alone to rot.

Link sighed and carefully eased his head against the wall, facing the iron door with a somber frown. He hoped Navi was alright. Last he remembered…last he remembered she…

_“There’s no way he’s going to hold me back again! This time, we fight together!”_

Icy realization hit with the force of an anvil.

Link bolted upright, horror dropping like a stone in his gut. How could he have forgotten? _Ganon_. They’d been fighting _Ganon_. Did…did he _lose?_

Link’s breath immediately came short, desperately grabbing at the flashes of memory that came quicker and quicker, as though the clarifying realization had unleashed a dam. He remembered the fight, powerful spheres of lightning hurling at him for what seemed like hours. Goddesses, the _pain_ whenever they managed to hit…But then, Ganondorf was on his knees. The castle was shaking. Zelda was there, safe but afraid. He took her hand and they ran, but it wasn’t over. Ganon emerged from the rubble. He was huge, inhuman. They fought until it seemed like Link would collapse and then—

He stabbed him in the head.

He stabbed him in the head, and Zelda did something with the Sages…

Link curled inward as his head began to pound, gasping as everything came back full force.

Ganon dragged him in. He dragged him into the Sacred Realm, into his prison. The Sages…Zelda…

It couldn’t be possible. It couldn’t be. Zelda would never… _How_ could they have let Ganon—

_“Princess! You cannot stop your attack!”_

He couldn’t calm his breathing, the smallest whimper escaping unbidden as he recalled Impa’s thundering words. The glowing light had intensified after she spoke. It’d felt like he was being stretched and torn in two. And Navi-

He recalled smacking her away, the panic he felt when that punishing light started to envelop her small body too. He couldn’t let her get dragged in with him. Somehow, he’d known what was happening. He’d known they wouldn’t—

“N-no.” Link whispered, shaking. The words felt thick and heavy in his throat. This couldn’t be happening. After everything he did…after _everything_ he went through. “They won’t…They won’t leave me here.”

“You don’t sound so sure, kid.”

Link jolted violently, snapping wide eyes up to the towering figure of his nightmares. Ganondorf was standing right there, right outside the cell, smirking with a special brand of cruelty. His presence seemed to suck the oxygen out of the air. Link couldn’t breathe. This had to be another nightmare. It was too unreal, too unthinkable.

As if reading his thoughts, the Gerudo King split into a wide grin, opening the cell door to let himself inside. Link tried to scramble to his feet, but in one step the massive man closed the distance between them, grabbing his collar and hauling him up.

“Do you remember, _Hero_?” he sneered, his hot breath undeniably real on Link’s bruised face.

He stretched away from him as best he could. It was unnerving, being this close to the man. Ganondorf knew it too, seemed to enjoy it. Link’s gut twisted with disgust, mutating his shock and horror into a much more familiar fury. A thick pause passed between them.

“…I remember spitting on you.” He glared quietly.

A dark look of anger quickly inverted that ugly smirk. Ganondorf’s fist trembled with rage for a moment before he roughly shoved Link to the ground.

“Unbelievable. All this time of near silence and it turns out you’re nothing more than a petulant wretch.”

Link didn’t respond, watching him with careful, sharp eyes. He slowly eased himself up, coiled and ready to dodge a brutal kick. The pain of his concussion seemed to be put on hold. Adrenaline was flowing forth in response to an enemy, numbing his wounds. Even chained and weaponless, he was ready for a fight. Ganondorf took notice, raising a thick brow.

“You are powerless here, boy.”

Link shrugged. He wasn’t too concerned. That wasn’t the Triforce piece he carried, after all. As if on cue, he felt his hand grow warm, Courage resonating deliberately with the threat of Power that stood across. Ganondorf briefly glanced down at his own hand, letting out a bitter laugh.

“Though not completely powerless, I suppose.”

He looked back to Link, this time with an open covetousness in his red eyes that the Hero did _not_ enjoy. He resisted the urge to squirm, instead focusing on getting his feet under him and slowing rising to stand. For a moment they hovered like that, until Ganondorf seemed to remember himself. The madness slipped away like a snake hiding under a leaf. It left only the weight of his stare, intense and heavy. Silence passed between them for a long moment, the Gerudo King’s expression shifting into something unreadable.

Link had no interest in breaking the silence or trying to decipher the madman before him. He had nothing to say to the tyrant who’d caused years of pain and suffering in Hyrule. There was little he could do at this point but escape his chains and hole up somewhere far away from Ganondorf until the Sages could get him out. He hoped with everything he had that they would hurry. If escape didn’t work out, he’d have to endure whatever Ganondorf intended to throw at him. He suspected a lot of it would involve the whipping frame beside the cell.

He was surprised, then, when Ganondorf did nothing more but cast him a vaguely disgusted sneer and left without another word. Link blinked as the iron door clanged shut behind him, muffling his fading footsteps. Silence reigned in the small dungeon once more, and it was only in the empty quiet that Link realized how badly his legs were shaking.

With a heavy exhale, he let himself fall back to the floor. Dizziness returned swiftly, along with the awareness of creeping sweat trails trickling down his head. The stress of his concussion returned with a vengeance, spiked now with dire anxiety. He was trapped, alone, with Ganondorf. The more he thought about it, the heavier his breathing became.

Link closed his eyes, leaning back against the wall. He tried to think of what Navi would tell him, to stay focused. This wasn’t any different than being trapped in a temple or captured by Ganon’s followers. He’d worked his way out of tight spots before…this was practically the same thing. Mostly. He just had to wait for his friends to get him out. He could do that.

The silence of the tiny room was suffocating. Navi’s absence was now a physical weight in his chest. He couldn’t stop fixating on how alone he was, or how far he was from the safety of his familiar life. The only consolation he had was that they’d _won_. Despite all the pain and struggles, and despite being stuck in a pit with the Demon King himself…they’d still won. Ganondorf couldn’t get the Triforce here, and Hyrule was safe. Zelda was safe. Soon enough, he’d be out of this pit and he then he could be safe too.

Following this thought, the lone torch began to dim of its own accord. Link took a shaky breath, eyes widening when the dimming light burnt out altogether and plunged him into impregnable darkness. His heart-rate rocketed up, haunting whispers of the dead coming back in a way they hadn’t in a long time. Link shoved himself blindly against the wall, hunching his shoulders and trying to clear his head despite the debilitating concussion. He wasn’t in the Shadow Temple anymore…this darkness couldn’t hurt him…it couldn’t…unless Ganondorf wanted it to.

A dry, shaky breath came from his throat, short and close to gasping. He needed to calm down. Navi wasn’t here. She wasn’t-

Link grit his teeth, pressing his head into this bent knees. It wasn’t helping. He couldn’t stop thinking about how alone he was, how dark it was…how _scared_ he was.

“Please…” Link whispered to his friends in the black, eyes squeezed shut. “Please hurry…”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I should mention that I’m running on the take that Link knows nothing about anything, cause he was raised by a tree. Also, I kinda mix in stuff from the manga series. Nothing huge though. It’s probably not noticeable unless you’ve actually read the mangas. If you haven’t I very much recommend it. They’re pretty fun. I have a bunch and they’ve solidified a life-long love of Zelda in my three year old (holyshitsidenote my child BROKE HER LEG last week jumping off her bed pretending to be Link, so there’s that disclaimer for anyone with kids. Parenting is wild.)

Ganondorf glared out his window with a caustic eye.

The vast prison Hyrule’s holy Sages had seen fit to cast him in was bitterly fitting. Where he’d once desired all of Hyrule’s green fields and abundance, this realm was empty of it. As if to rub salt in the wound, it was even more devoid of life than his desert home, sterile and colorless compared to the Gerudo’s yellow sands and pockets of hardy flora.

Instead, an empty gray landscape stretched on into infinity. The flat horizon was unbroken in every direction, fading into an unnatural black sky. If not for the cold white light that radiated from the doorway in the sky, nothing would be visible at all.

From his vantage point at the window, Ganondorf observed the portal, a great round orb that hung like an enlarged moon. It held a depth that tunneled inward, indicating the portal still open. Of course, he was not so foolish as to think escape would be as simple as flying out. The doorway would merely spit him back to the ground as viciously as it had the first time. He would need significantly more power to claw his way back into Hyrule, divine power, even.

Which brought to mind the other occupant of this void, the one currently marinating in a well-deserved dungeon.

Ganondorf absently rubbed the Triforce on the back of his hand, recalling the electric warmth from when the two pieces had resonated. The boy had power, more than he knew, but regrettably it still might not be enough. The sacred realm was designed to contain the might of the Triforce, to house it and hold it away from mortal hands.

The will of the Goddesses, in all their might and divine Otherness, permeated each fiber that constructed this empty hell. It left a constant distaste in his mouth, being so impenetrably subjected to their devised workings. There was no guarantee obtaining another piece would be enough to get him out on his own terms, before the weight of his curse, his hate and malice, tore the seal apart on its own.

But at the very least, Ganondorf reasoned, getting it now would save him the trouble of hunting it down when he finally _did_ escape. In fact, there might not even be another Hero to rise against him, not one with enough strength to defeat him again.

The only question was how to pry it off the undeserving brat.

Unfortunately, it wouldn’t be as simple as killing the boy. Death would only release the Hero’s spirit back to the Goddesses, and being in this heavenly realm, the associated Triforce piece would undoubtedly go with it.

That left him limited to more tiresome options. Ganondorf had a suspicion pain wouldn’t get him very far with the divined avatar of courage, but it was worth a shot. Manipulating him would be tedious, but perhaps more successful. Surely it wouldn’t be too difficult. For all his grand accomplishments, the great Hero of Time looked to be little more than a naïve child.

Ganondorf heaved a sigh, rubbing his temples and slouching against the window. It was all more troublesome than he wanted it to be. He hated dealing with prisoners of war, even ones he actively despised. It always felt like a more complicated form of babysitting.

It’d been something of a surprise to find the spluttering Hero in his arms as they descended into this realm, like recalling a forgotten memory. His demon form had managed to snag the Hero of Time and drag him down, either out of hate or desperation or both. There was no questioning the golden opportunity before him. If nothing else, Ganondorf at least had something to vent his frustrations on.

More than that, there was perhaps a very slim chance the Sages would be foolish enough to try getting the Hero out. All it would take is a little ego and the moving sentiment of friendship to delude themselves into thinking Ganondorf wouldn’t escape as well. He wasn’t going to hold his breath on that possibility though. Not like the idiot in his dungeon probably was.

The Gerudo King rolled his eyes, wondering for the hundredth time how he could have been taken down by someone who looked barely out of his teenage years. He had to remind himself it was only by the might of the Triforce and the power granted to him by the Sages that Link managed to win. Without all of that, he’d undoubtedly be as insignificant as any other pompous Hylian, full of bravado and entitlement. A hot and heavy wrath flared at the mere thought of it all. Ganondorf spat at the moon, moving away from the window and pacing in his bedchamber.

The curated trappings that surrounded him did little to comfort the ever-present storm brewing inside. He had expended a significant amount of effort to raise a replica of his home Fortress out of the gray earth. Though he’d envisioned the warm liveliness of his childhood, when the Gerudo people seemed happier and more prosperous through young, untroubled eyes, the final result was a far cry from what he’d hoped.

Empty, silent halls twisted his vision, mocking him for what he could never have again. Instead of a Fortress, he’d raised a hollow labyrinth, one that laid bare all he had lost. He was more alone and cut off from his people than ever before, perhaps irreversibly. Despair, distant and sad compared to the more fiery presence of his wrath, rose with haunting vengeance. It threatened to overwhelm him for a moment, before he expertly channeled it back into the swirling pit of malice constantly broiling inside.

He could have had everything if not for the interference of those ignorant, self-righteous Hylians. He’d only ever expected what his people were due, what _he_ was due. Generations of suffering under a kingdom ruled by pretentious judgment and hypocrisy could only be tolerated for so long before the tension inevitably snapped. But of course, there was never any fault to be found in the perpetrators of violence. Not by _Hylia’s chosen people_. Instead of answering for their crimes, the kingdom of Hyrule hid themselves behind destiny and divine right, as though _he_ were not also blessed by the very Goddesses they constantly invoked! The gall of it all was astounding, offensive.

Rage churned ever hotter in his gut, crackling in his hands with nowhere to go. Well, almost nowhere. Ganon bared his teeth in a vicious grin, already feeling the oozing satisfaction of revenge spread slowly, enticingly, thinking of that damn Hero.

If he had to suffer for the sake of other’s inaction, he’d make sure Link would too.

***

The hard crunch of stone bit into Link’s back as he sagged against the wall. The room spun and twisted like he was back in the Forest Temple. His legs slipped out from under him, unable to hold himself up. Before he could even attempt to get his bearings, another fist smashed into his face with the force of a careening boulder. Blood coursed warm and heavy down his face, dribbling over his lips. More filled his mouth and poured out when Ganon lifted him by the neck of his tunic and sunk a bladed knee deep into his stomach.

Link found he couldn’t breathe anymore. Something inside was broken in such a way that only thick, wet gurgles were able to escape his damaged esophagus. Panic, and a white hot terror unique to immanent death, washed over the delirium taking his mind. This had already happened two times before though. Two times, and he wasn’t dead yet. Ganon would _let_ him. The afore mentioned beast picked him up from the dirt floor, expression empty as he shoved a bottle of red potion into his mouth once again.

The crimson liquid worked swiftly as it rushed down his spluttering throat, knitting the most severe and fatal damage almost immediately upon contact. Link felt some presence of mind return as the pain from mortal wounds evaporated, nausea turning in his freshly sewn stomach.

There was something wrong with the potions, though. They weren’t as strong as what he was used in Hyrule. Even after having a full bottle forcibly shoved down his throat, only the most debilitating wounds were cured. Everything else remained in varying stages of half-healing, and every wound carried an unusual soreness, as though the skin itself ached from trying to regenerate too quickly. Hell, perhaps it was all intentional. Link didn’t know the first thing about actually brewing the potions he’d so heavily relied on during his travels. He wondered now if that was an embarrassing oversight on his part.

Ganon dropped him to the ground with a careless shove. His legs crippled under him again, pain and exhaustion weighing down at a bone-deep level. He’d never felt so sore in his life. Still, he was aware enough to try scrambling away from the shadow that loomed, rubbing blood out of his good eye with a dirt-covered shoulder. His wrists were still chained behind him, but not to the wall. Ganon had wanted some freedom to throw him around the cell amidst his temper tantrum.

It was all Link could think to call this wordless, violent episode. He’d seen fairies rage in a similar manner back home, usually when a prank had gone too far and hurt their Korkiri. Their light would burn hot and they’d fly around the room, knocking over books and toys and tearing into plants until they calmed down. It never lasted long, just enough to make a point and vent the emotions too heavy for such a small body. Unfortunately, Ganondorf was not a fairy, and his body was perfectly big enough to vent for quite a long time.

And he was very, very angry.

Link didn’t have any hope in being able to crawl away, but maybe he’d be able to catch sight of an incoming boot and avoid some damage. At least until Ganon’s patience wore thin and he held him down to continue the assault. When the sound of heavy footsteps remained absent in his ears, Link chanced a glance up at his assailant, stubbornly meeting his red-eyed glare and silently returning the ire within. Ganondorf narrowed his eyes.

There wasn’t anything to be said. He was acting exactly as Link expected him to. Violent, cruel, and filled to the brim with an otherworldly hate. He’d seen it all in his eyes as a child, after Zelda was whisked away on a white horse. It was still there seven years and five temples later, when he faced him at the top of his tower. As far as Link could tell, the man was entirely made up of the malice he exuded. Without the Master Sword, there was little to do but endure him, as all of Hyrule had to suffer while he slept.

The usual pang of guilt still managed to surface over that. Maybe this was all some overdue payment for his neglect, for allowing Ganon to get his hands on the Triforce in the first place. Link tried to shove those thoughts away, past the knot of worry constantly twisted in his gut. He needed to stay focused. The Sages would come soon enough. They had to.

Ganondorf continued to stare down at him like he was a particularly unpleasant bit of dirt on his boot. Link spat out a glob of blood, feeling a molar give more wiggle that it was supposed to. The larger man wasn’t moving to attack, so Link decided to settle in. Once this episode was over, he could start working on an escape plan. It would be much easier now that his concussion was healed.

For reasons unknown to Link, it seemed Ganondorf didn’t have much of an interest in killing him. He supposed the larger man enjoyed repeatedly beating him within an inch of his life instead. As long as he kept the red potions coming, even weakened as they were, Link could endure. He scooted back and leaned against the wall, waiting for the next round of attacks with a tired stare. Ganon's brows furrowed.

"You're barely more than a complacent tool, aren't you?"

The younger quirked a brow, inviting his assailant to sneer.

"Not much more to you than a glorified sword and enough stupidity to believe it worth something."

Link actually snorted at that, unable to keep down a bloody smirk. He wasn't completely sure what struck him as funny, but something about Ganondorf supposing he had him all figured out after a single punching sessions was oddly hilarious. Link could handle his assumptions. The more people underestimated him, the better off he tended to be.

Any lingering twinge of bitterness from the other's words was forcibly shut down. Now wasn't the time to entertain tedious self-doubts. He just had to handle it like he did his shadow in the Water temple, only with less bodily stabbing. That part was unfortunate.

Link remained quiet, partly because he had nothing to say and partly because Ganondorf was visibly irked by his silence. A muscle twitched dangerously in the man's jaw.

"Keep your self-satisfied silence, Hero. Your sword is gone and your purpose has been fulfilled. I suggest you get comfortable. There's little reason for the Sages to retrieve a used-up pawn."

He ended his bite with a harsh kick, like a cruel master would deliver to a dog. Link scowled hatefully, curling around the ache and feeling the Gerudo king's words writhe like soured maggots in his gut. He shoved it all away, using his anger as a shield. Ganondorf didn't know anything about him _or_ his friends. They wouldn't abandon him so easily.

With a careless wave, the chain hanging from the wall slithered behind Link and reattached to the manacles binding his wrists. Ganon stared down at him with a final, inflamed glare, nothing but hate lining the curl of his sneer. Link did not waver in his own glower, refusing to back down to an enemy he'd already defeated. Ganondorf left the dingy cell without a backward glance, taking the torch with him this time and plunging the room into instant darkness.

It was unpleasant, sitting sore and chained in the pitch black. Without the grounding warmth of fairy light, or of _any_ light, Link couldn't keep his thoughts from fixating on how vulnerable and alone he was. It was worse than any other isolation he'd endured, even growing up as the Korkiri without a fairy. Now he knew what he was missing, and had only haunting memories from adulthood to fill the void.

The absence of light seemed to press in from all sides, only textures and physical aches registering enough to ground him. He knew Navi wasn't coming back anytime soon. Until the Sages came, there was _no one_ who could relieve the suffocating darkness except its own progenitor. Link wasn't sure what was worse, the memories that constantly crept up with increasing strength or Ganondorf.

Warm blood tickled down his arm, like the slither of some unknown creature. Link breathed slowly, focusing on the pain it emanated from. His head ached dully. Sometimes it felt like he was floating in Lake Hylia rather than sitting in a tiny grave-prison. A muscle twitched on his face, the thought of being in a grave hitting more deeply than it should.

Whirling images of shadows and rotted creatures and a haunting nocturne melody echoed through the black, making his stomach turn. Link squeezed his eyes shut tighter, thinking about Hyrule field, of the bright blue sky that always opened wide like arms of comfort. He'd be there soon enough. With a wild jump in his heart, he imagined if he focused hard enough, it would all appear, like it could hear him calling. He’d always felt drawn to explore wide open spaces, even as a child in the forest.

Of course, the reality of his explorations sometimes led to places he hadn't expected, but he supposed that came with the territory.

Link scratched at the dirt floor below him, waiting for the minutes to tick by. The dusty earth crumbled under his nail. There was little to do now but endure and wait. Wait for an ideal time to escape, wait for the Sages to retrieve him, wait to put this nightmare behind him. Through busted lips and a bruised chest, Link sighed.

He hated waiting.


	4. Chapter 4

Ganondorf hadn’t come by for a long time.

Link didn’t think an entire day had gone by yet, but maybe several hours. It was hard to tell in the vacuum of darkness he sat in. It was long enough for Link to work through a few debilitating flashbacks, regain his focus, and hunt around for the food tossed on the floor from the Gerudo’s previous visit. His headache from earlier had worsened, as did the dryness of his throat and mouth. He needed water, badly. There had been very little moisture in the dusty, stale bread and handful of nuts he’d found. The meager sustenance sat uncomfortably in his stomach, but he knew he needed whatever paltry nutrition they could provide. Once he got out of here, he could hunt around the surrounding area for food and water.

Link worried the longer he waited to escape, the more his constitution would deteriorate. Ganondorf didn’t seem too concerned with keeping him properly fed or hydrated, and those two things—particularly the latter—would do him in much more quickly than a few punching sessions.

With that galvanizing anxiety comfortably rooted, Link began to dig in the cove joint for his lock picks. Working blind, with his heart hammering in his chest, made everything more difficult. He had to take a few breaths to calm fumbling fingers, willing himself to focus on the task at hand instead of worrying about when Ganondorf might return. It would have been more ideal to wait and see if the man was going to visit on a more predictable schedule, but there was no time. He might by too debilitated from hunger and thirst to move by then.

Link frowned and closed his eyes. His coordination improved, able to focus more intently on what his fingers were doing. They soon located the lock picks, feeling out three sticks of metal. He gingerly picked one up and worked it around in his hand, fishing into the small key hole of his manacles. Lock picking was an art that relied upon hearing and touch, so the deadened environment of the dungeon only worked to serve Link’s efforts The metal was heavier than anticipated though. He had to work very slowly and carefully, feeling out the notches within the lock and wiggling at heavy tumblers.

The breath held in his chest came out in a harsh curse when the thin tine suddenly snapped. Link tried not to berate himself too harshly. The second pick was fished from the dirt and carefully inserted. He eased off at the slightest increase in pressure felt through his fingertips.

It took longer than he would have liked, but his patience was eventually rewarded with the most wonderful sounding click he’d ever heard. The tiny noise was swallowed by the darkness, as was the flutter of momentary glee. He couldn’t let himself get too excited. Plenty more obstacles lied ahead.

Link shook off the manacles, placing the remaining lock picks securely in his ponytail. Pushing himself to a stand, the beginning flow of adrenaline started to leak in. It helped cover the numerous aches and half-healed wounds littering his body. He rolled his shoulders, working out the stiffness in his arms and wrists before feeling out the bars of the cell. It was easier to move more swiftly now. The cold metal of the cell bars slid against his calloused hands until the boxy padlock butted against his searching fingers. Immediately he set to work on the next lock.

Soon enough, another resounding click saluted his success. The cell door creaked open in the dark, his heart hammering more erratically. Things were going fairly smoothly so far and it did nothing but fill his gut with trepidation. Nevertheless, Link pushed on, blindly searching for the last door barring freedom and momentarily stumbling over the chair beside it.

He felt along the seam and jiggled the handle lightly. The door itself was heavy, but its locking mechanism didn’t feel nearly as foolproof. Ganondorf seemed to be relying primarily on the chains and the cell to keep Link imprisoned. It took a few moments of clever maneuvering, but Link was able to use the two lock picks as a sort of shim. He slid them into the thin seam and played with the angles until a telltale click softy echoed out.

His heart was now firmly lodged in his throat, limbs tight and feeling vaguely detached. Using the barest tips of his fingers, he inched the heavy door open, returning the trusty picks to his ponytail before peaking out through the opened crack. When no alarms announced his escape, Link pushed open the last barrier to freedom, wincing as the loud creak echoed through the absolute silence.

He didn't know what he expected to see on the other side. Monsters, deadly traps, or perhaps Ganondorf himself stomping towards him with murder blazing in his eyes. The sight of a shadowed staircase was comparatively anti-climactic, but much more welcome. It was a relief to have the oppressive darkness of his prison broken. Link crept forward, moving more swiftly now. Up ahead was a doorway outlined with a flickering light, probably torchlight. He was itching to welcome its glow, banishing the grave-prison behind him.

Rough hewn wood scratched his ear as he pressed against the grain, straining to hear the slightest noise beyond. There was nothing. So far, it was all too easy. It agitated his senses. Back in Hyrule, Ganondorf had wasted no effort using elaborate webs of magic to hinder his advance into Zelda’s corrupted castle. Perhaps he didn’t consider Link much of a threat here, isolated from friends and without the Master Sword. He listened once more for the sound of footsteps beyond the door, but there was nothing. Swallowing his fear, Link wrapped a hand around the cold doorknob and eased it open.

Only a soft metallic whine broke the quiet of the hallway beyond.

For one disorienting moment, he thought he’d somehow opened a door back to Hyrule, the Gerudo fortress more specifically. He was staring down a hall identical to one he’d been in before, or at least nearly identical. The stone layering was the same, so much so he half-expected a purple clad guard to walk past. Link shook himself, stepping lightly so his feet didn’t echo.

There was no one at the end of the hall, human or monster, just more of the same labyrinth-like structure of the Gerudo fortress, lined with torches. As he crept farther he soon noted subtle differences. It all looked similar, yes, but it wasn’t exactly the same. This version looked more maintained, better cared for. The bone work above doorways and at the end of halls contained a variety of desert plants and succulents, instead of brittle feathers or sticks. The halls had traditional Gerudo tapestries lining them, and ancient looking carvings painted in red. Link briefly wondered if this was what the fortress looked like before the Gerudo lost their King to madness and hate. He set the similarities and other curiosities aside. In the end, it didn’t matter.

Light familiarity made him more confident. He moved as swiftly as he dared, keeping the layout of this new fortress in his head and glancing into every open doorway as he passed. He could find no weapons, and no exit, not even a window. All the rooms had a staged, sterile quality to them, imparting a sense of coldness. As the silence and emptiness wore on, Link felt like he was passing through a ghost. Luckily, no such creatures appeared, and neither did Ganondorf. In fact, there was no one at all. Not even manifested monsters. It made the fortress eerie, and lonely.

Link was feeling cagey when he rounded another corner and saw nothing but more hallways and empty, hollow rooms. He doubled back and took some new turns. Soon the tapestries began to change, the ancient carvings gradually disappearing. He saw more bone work, some with brightly colored bird feathers, as well as more detailed plant arrangements. The need for an exit itched under his skin. He could swear the air held the remnants of a breeze on it. If he could just find a window…

He passed through a storage room full of wooden crates, all of which were strangely empty. It was all a hollow staging, a curated illusion. Link had the creeping suspicion Ganondorf made all of it to feel more at home, which was a bizarre quality to attribute to the beast of a man. It was more human than he would have expected from him, considering the absence of such considerations in his corrupted castle back in Hyrule.

Link continued on, peaking down the empty hallway on the other side. More smells seemed to be coming from this direction, burning hearth wood and something other than cool, dry stone. Red carpet now lined the walkway, a sign of mundane comfort. Instantly, he was uneasy. This part of the fortress looked significantly more lived in. He could only hope he wasn’t unwittingly sneaking closer to Ganondorf’s quarters, though if there were an exit nearby, it would reasonably be close to where the other man could access it.

When he nearly stumbled into a well-used library, Link knew it was time to head back and try a new direction far, far away from this part of the fortress. Undeniable evidence of Ganondorf’s presence sent his heart into his throat, alarm bells clamoring. He crept backwards, listening for the slightest indication of the other’s approach. In his haste, Link spun around and took a corner too sharply.

Running directly into the man he was trying to avoid.

A horrible silence froze them both. Ganondorf stared, the book in his hand falling limp as an impossibly long second passed between them.

“…Fuck.” Link muttered.

And then he bolted.

The subsequent bellowing roar that resounded off the walls electrified the panic under his feet. His heart threatened to rocket out of his chest. He ran at a dead sprint, cursing furiously under his breath.

Link skidded around a corner, vaulting over empty boxes. Fear drove him faster and faster. He felt so incredibly _stupid_. Ganondorf thundered in fury somewhere behind him. Link desperately hoped he couldn’t change into his horrible demon form here, not daring to turn around and find out.

The twisting labyrinth made everything worse. He had no idea where he was going and everything looked the same. Link leapt over a few more boxes. Pounding footsteps echoed closer. He felt the walls closing in, the suffocating dread of re-capture hollowing out his chest. He was going to catch him. Link was fast, but Ganondorf had the home advantage. If he didn’t find a way out he’d get caught and dragged back down to that _godforsaken_ —

An angry yell sounded to his left before a mass of violent rage barreled into him. They rolled to the ground, smashing against the wall with Ganondorf pinning Link to the floor. In a seamless response, he thrust his head up into the larger man’s nose. Ganon cursed, letting go on instinct to staunch the rush of blood. Link wriggled out from under him, but he wasn’t quick enough. Ganon’s eyes blazed red. He reached with massive arms, catching Link round the face and immediately smashing his head into the floor until he stopped moving.

The fight was over as quickly as it started. Speed only had the advantage over brawn until it was caught, and Link was thoroughly caught. Awareness floated in and out as a dull ringing filled both ear drums. Whenever his vision swam back, he could see Ganondorf, first glaring with murder, then from a different view, higher up and standing as he dragged him listlessly across the floor.

A muffled, distant part of Link knew where they were going, that he had to make his limbs cooperate and _move_ before the doors locked him away in pitiless darkness again. It was a useless effort. No matter how desperately he willed his body to listen, he could barely stay conscious. He probably had another goddamn concussion.

The smooth drag of stone broke under him in a brief moment of flight, and then he was rolling down a staircase. He groaned to a stop at the bottom, feeling the vibrations of Ganon’s approaching footsteps. Fear clawed viciously at his insides, briefly overriding his muddled state enough to drag himself up. He only got as far as his knees before Ganondorf’s boot sunk into his gut, snuffing any lingering hope of defense. Link gasped for breath, scratching uselessly at the hand twisted into the neck of his tunic. He was dragged back into the tiny dungeon, a frustrated yell of despair tearing past cracked lips at the sight of that damned cell.

Vertigo threatened to knock him out as he was suddenly hauled up. He tried to get his stumbling legs to cooperate under him, arms forced above his head. Chains rattled too close to his ears, but Link was more concerned with the bodily hate that was absolutely radiating off the figure behind him. Metal clamped around his outstretched wrists. Realization hit hard and his stomach sank, knowing what was coming next. He sagged in the chains holding him aloft, finally getting his feet under him enough to lean against the heavy whipping frame. Ganondorf seized the back of his head, violently forcing his neck back and growling into his ear.

“I don’t know how to weaseled your way out of that cell, you conniving little _rat_ , but I intend to find out.”

He shoved another bottle of red potion down Link’s throat, which wasn’t a good sign. The throbbing confusion of head trauma trickled away as he choked on the thick liquid, fear solidifying in his gut. Ganondorf shoved his head away, yanking one of the whips off the wall with a rough jerk.

Link strained against the manacles, cold dread clawing up his throat. He tried to mentally remove himself from what was coming next, staring at the dismal gray wall across from him and dearly wishing, in a moment of unfettered terror, that his life hadn’t led to this point.

_CRACK!_

Fire erupted from a single cutting line that raced across his back. Link inhaled through his teeth, the wooden frame digging into his chest as his body instinctually arced to get away from-

_CRACK! CRACK!_

A loud gasp tore out of his throat, his body going rigid.

_CRACK!_

The tearing burn spread. He had to grit his teeth to choke back guttural sounds of pain, his legs trembling beneath him and shoulders shaking in equal measure.

_CRACK!_

Link didn’t hear Ganon’s approaching footfalls through the blinding pain, but he felt the presence of a threat too close. He pulled in vain at the chains outstretching his arms, refusing to look at the Gerudo when he hovered over him. The fire lacing his back did not lessen though the whipping had ceased. Every ragged inhale stretched the wounds. A cold sweat began to bead across Link’s face.

Ganondorf grabbed his hair again. He seemed to enjoy doing that. The larger man forced his head back to stare him down once more. His red eyes held a livid coldness, promising harrowing consequences should Link not cooperate. Probably even if he did cooperate.

“Tell me how you escaped.”

The man’s even tone was wrung through with a deadly malice. Link pointedly ignored him, looking away with a more resolute glower. Ganon lowered his face closer, hissing directly into his twitching ear.

“You think this is painful, boy? I haven’t even _begun_ to work you over. You will tell me how you escaped, or else we’ll spend the next eternity dragging it out of your screaming carcass.”

Something small and pathetic curled around a bone deep fear in Link’s chest, but he promptly squashed it. He couldn’t give up the lock picks. He didn’t know how or when the Sages would come, but he had a strong feeling they’d need him far away from Ganondorf to get him out. So, despite the other man’s valiant attempt at persuasion, he couldn’t even consider it. Link made a motion to jerk away from the hand in his hair, ignoring the way is caused his vision to fluctuate. The grip tightened painfully, ripping a few strands out.

“So be it then, _Hero_.” He spat.

Link could take pain, even pain such as this. He wasn’t particularly fond of the sensation, but its familiarity made the whip more bearable than giving up his freedom. He wasn’t so desperate yet. Hopefully it wouldn’t get to that point.

Link inhaled sharply when rough hands bunched the back of his tunic and tore it apart like paper. A bleak mourning settled in his gut as the familiar green of his Korkiri clothes fell in tatters to the floor, dirtied and bloody. Homesickness lurched, a wild, desperate ache for home crippling him more intensely than the whip. Heavy footsteps retreated. Link took a shaky, but steadying breath.

_CRACK!_

_CRACK!_

The pain was much more intense without the cushioning layer of his tunic, or maybe it was just the vulnerability of his position. The dungeon’s cold air bit more eagerly at his exposed skin. Blood slowly oozed down. Link’s breath was soon back to ragged gasping, muscles stiff with inflammation. Ganondorf brought the whip down again, harder. He jerked in the chains, gritting his teeth and squeezing his eyes shut with the effort to remain silent. It was agonizing, feeling his skin split as the lines of fire crisscrossed over his back. A full-body tremble began wracking his frame as Ganon continued, each subsequent lash coming harder and harder. His haggard breath could surely be heard across the room.

“I’ll give you one final chance, Hero. Relent now, or suffer the consequences.”

Link was sagging in his chains. He looked blearily over at the Geurdo king, who had stepped closer to the wall to return the whip he’d been using. Blood dripped thickly from the leather. Link’s eyes widened, breath coming short when he picked up a different whip, this one glinting with tiny blades of metal woven into the ends.

Oh he almost gave in then. The fear inside was desperate to claw out, to give up his means to freedom and beg for mercy. With an incredible force of will, he swallowed it all down, thinking of escape, of his friends, of Navi, of anything that could fortify his resolve. Pain was only a temporary thing.

Ganondorf didn’t comment as he watched the visible horror in Link’s eyes transition to something hard and determined. He stabilized his trembling stance, squaring his shoulders and glaring silently at the wall. It was an impressive enough show, but it wouldn’t last. With a dismissive scoff, Ganon resumed his place across room, letting the metal tines click together as he walked. Link remained quiet and steady. Ganon sought to amend that.

It didn’t take much to let his rage course strong again. Just looking at the brat stoked an acrid bitterness. He was craftier than Ganondorf realized, and maybe marginally more competent. If frustrated him to no end that Link had nearly managed to escape so soon. He had half a mind to break his legs and leave them mangled as punishment. Perhaps later, if he managed to hold himself together through a more debilitating whip.

Ganondorf glared at the boy’s bleeding, exposed back, raising the leather high. 

A well-earned scream finally erupted from Link as the metal-laced whip shredded the skin of his back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man I'm real mean to Link in this one... Thanks for all the comments and reads!


	5. Chapter 5

Agony had whittled down the base foundation of his reality. It had long swallowed any sense of time, consuming Link with an unrelenting appetite. The laborious gasping of his own breath was too loud in his ears. Thick drops of blood splashed to the puddle below, where his bare feet were crumpled, stained red. Repeated applications of red potion had prolonged the ordeal, each one chipping away at Link's endurance.

He kept telling himself this was it, that he'd hit his limit. Then Ganondorf would knit his skin with potion once more, and he'd swear it was the last time, that this round, he'd break for sure. This repeated until Link lost count and a strange delirium took his mind. He couldn't escape the sting of the whip, but he felt oddly disconnected from the happenings of the tiny dungeon. He had the most bizarre certainty that he'd suffered like this before, for longer even, and had managed to make it through. He wasn't sure where such a ridiculous idea came from, but it resonated at soul-deep level, almost like a memory, wrung through with the befuddling flow of time.

It was a delusion that served him well regardless of its veracity. It was only because of this strange belief that he was able to find the bearing of mind to endure.

Ganondorf raised his arm again, a bored expression on his face that went unnoticed by the hero. Most things, in fact, seemed to be going unnoticed by the hero. His dead weight hung from the manacles, limp and unresponsive. The last few lashings had barely caused him to stir. Ganondorf exhaled a tired sigh, lowering the whip and slowly winding it back to a resting loop. He took a long moment to consider the kid bleeding out in front of him, begrudgingly impressed at his fortitude. He'd held out better than expected, as good as Ganondorf himself could have. The damn brat hadn't relented in the slightest, but he couldn't let him off the hook until he gave up the means to his escape.

Ganondorf sighed heavily. Torture lacked satisfaction when it became so tedious.

He returned the whip to its hook, uncorking his last bottle of red potion as he approached Link. At the rate he burned through them, he'd need to start keeping an entire stockpile. The Gerudo king rolled his eyes, carefully pouring the red liquid over Link's back and watching the worst of his ruined skin zip back together. It was still visibly tender, pink and raw. The younger man didn't even twitch. He probably wasn't aware that Ganondorf had applied the potion, or that he was standing behind him at all. Another frustrated sigh blew out. The kid was in no condition to continue. You couldn't get answers from an unresponsive victim.

Absently, Ganondorf picked flecks of dried blood and dirt from the other's hair, thinking of how best to proceed. It was a shame the hero couldn't afford to keep himself cleaner down here. His hair was a rare shade of gold, but one could hardly tell under the thick layer of grime. At least he'd lost that stupid hat.

Ganondorf continued his thoughtless grooming, a habit well rooted from a Gerudo childhood. He pulled at the fraying string holding all the strands together, about to idle his fingers through encrusted knots when a series of small tinkling sounds came from the floor. Ganondorf paused, looking down at two gleaming lock picks floating in the pool of blood.

There they swam, his long sought answer so suddenly and easily revealed. He blinked, a quiet huff of laughter escaping him.

"All this for a couple of thin lock picks…" he mused, plucking them from the red pool on the floor. He cast a glance at Link, who was unconscious at this point, and shook his head. "Tenacious brat."

With his goal finally achieved, and anger well vented, Ganondorf decided to reward the Hero for such unexpected fortitude. It wasn't often people took the Gerudo King by surprise, and certainly such mettle from his greatest adversary deserved some sort of recognition. So he left and then returned a short while later with two deep buckets of clean water and a small pitcher to match. Link, of course, hadn't moved a muscle in his absence, but this would likely cause a stir.

Ganondorf lifted the first bucket of cold water, and with a bedeviling smirk, dumped the whole of it over Link's head.

Immediately, the hero gasped to full consciousness, seeming to forget where he was for a moment and pulling at the chains in wild confusion. Ganondorf felt his smirk widen to a grin.

"Welcome back, kid."

At the sound of his voice, he went stiff and immediately deflated.

"Now, don't look so put out. I'm trying to reward you for your good behavior."

At that, Link turned his head with an incredulous stare, trails of dirtied water rinsing down his sharp features. Ganondorf held up the two lock picks, delivering a broad grin. Link’s blue eyes widened. He jerked in his chains and glanced up to the soaking mop of hair spread loose around his shoulders. A crestfallen expression broke across his face, shoulders sagging in defeat.

"…Dammit." He whispered.

Ganondorf rose an amused brow. For a tight-lipped, sanctimonious hero, he cursed more readily than expected.

"Indeed."

Without warning, be hefted the second barrel of water and dumped it over Link. The other coughed and spluttered, shaking his head to toss excess water out of his eyes as a shiver took hold. He was marginally cleaner, some of the gold in his hair identifiable and varying states of injury more fully revealed. The red potion had sealed the worst of the lacerations, but layers of raw, opened skin still oozed across his back and legs. He likely wouldn't be able to stand so fresh from the trauma.

Ganondorf stepped forward to unlock the manacles, catching the Hero before he crumpled to the floor. Link instinctively grappled at his arm, shooting him an alarmed glance and moving to back away before Ganon secured his grip, manhandling him not un-gently to the cell. Link stumbled along, struggling weakly, a sinking look of despair consuming his features as he was forced back into the small prison. Ganondorf almost pitied the hapless fool, but he could still recall the feel of the Master Sword sinking into his skull, so that sort of leniency wasn't quite manageable yet.

Link remained silent as the manacles resumed their place around his bruised wrists, arms forced behind his back. Only the barest wince betrayed any pain he felt. More noticeable was the harrowed shadow of worry badly concealed under a grim-set expression. It struck Ganondorf funny how easy it was to read the kid. No wonder he didn't need to talk.

Before stepping away, Ganondorf pressed a thumb over the key hole of the manacles. Warmth radiated from his fingertips as he shifted and changed the matter in his grip, feeling Link stiffen in front of him. It took but a second to change the composition of the lock, effectively erasing it and leaving a smooth, bare surface in his wake. Though Link was without his secret lock picks, Ganondorf couldn't be too careful. Now there was no way to open the chains binding his wrists, unless the kid miraculously managed to learn how to bend matter to his will, which didn't seem likely.

As soon as Ganondorf moved away, Link investigated what he'd done, shoulders further sagging at the realization of how much more trapped he was. Not a word was spoken though, not even an angry glare cast his way. He looked, instead, achingly tired.

Ganondorf took in his depressed state for a moment more before retrieving the pitcher of water. Judging by the sallowness to his face, dehydration was taking a toll. Not a bad thing, as far as Ganon was concerned, but certainly something that needed to be closely monitored. He didn't want his Triforce piece dying and escaping on him.

A thread of wariness broke through the kid's exhaustion as Ganondorf came close again, but the look quickly shifted to something desperate when he spied the water. The Gerudo King lowered himself to Link's kneeling form, ignoring the other's discomfort as he braced a hand behind his head and tipped the pitcher forward.

Link quickly got over his unease and drank deeply, small streams of water slipping past the rim of the vessel. It came upon Ganondorf to cut him off, lest he drink himself to sickness.

"Don't be so greedy, or else you'll throw it all back up."

Link gave him a baleful glare in response, water dripping from his chin. Ganondorf smirked at him. The Hero looked like little more than a pathetic, drowned fox. He reached forward to brush water off his face, grinning when the other jerked back with a thoroughly disquieted frown. He seemed sensitive to his personal space.

He’d give him his desired space, then.

Ganon set the half-full pitcher aside, well within the other’s reach, though he’d have to get creative on how to drink with his arms bound. Additionally, he procured an empty plate with a bit of magic, placing it pointedly next to the pitcher. Link was watching him closely, eyes narrowed. Ganondorf only smiled in response, mean and malicious.

Let the Hero stew in his own darkness for a while. If anything got people to open up, it was the claustrophobia of isolation.

Without a word, the evil King stood. Link’s gaze followed him all the way out, some of the characteristic fire returning to his ice blue eyes. Ganondorf plucked the torch from its bracket as he left, slamming the iron door shut behind him and entombing the hero in pitiless obscurity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m not super confident that I use tenses correctly and I worry that my writing can be a little heavy-handed. It seems like there’s a fine line between trusting the reader and over-explaining. Ah well. This chapter is a little short, so I’ll try to post the next chapter soon. I’m also a slut for comments, though, so you can bet your buttons I’ll find time to update faster if yall give me a pretty word. :D Or a rude word, I suppose, I'm not picky.


	6. Chapter 6

What amounted to nearly a week in isolation should have been more than enough time.

Ganondorf decided to end the Hero’s prolonged punishment when the boredom of his own confinement became too tedious. Meandering empty halls of lost memories and reading books he’d long memorized could stave off madness for only so long. Therefore, it was with an air of alleviation that he made his way to the small dungeon. He was eager to get started, to begin picking apart the thorn in his side and acquire a long sought piece of the Triforce.

As valiant a fight as Link had put up, the wear of abuses was sure to make him more agreeable by now.

With a firm push, the door at the bottom of the staircase groaned open, shedding light into the dismal, buried prison. Stale air wafted out with the equally unpleasant smells of human stagnation. The torch in his hand filled the room with jagged shadows, illuminating the lone figure who blinked rapidly at the sudden light, his pupils reduced to pinpricks. Link was huddled against the wall, his face pale and sallow.

He looked absolutely terrible. The fire’s glow reflected harshly off his face, sunken eyes ringed by deep shadows, blanched skin covered in a layer of crusted gore and dirt. Even so, upon adjustment to the light, he managed to hold up a blistering glare. His extended stay in the bowels of the dungeon had done nothing to temper the fire in those sharp blue eyes. It was irritating.

"Still holding out on those Sages, kid?"

Ganondorf spoke with mock pity, casting a smile meant to wound. Link only reacted by deepening his vehement glower, uncurling from the wall to face his guest more fully. The other man closed the door behind him, heightening the sense of claustrophobia. Link was stiff, watching with hawk-like eyes as Ganon placed the torch into its holder. The tension visibly thickened as he approached the cell, letting himself inside. Link stood quickly, much more quickly than someone suffering from malnutrition and mental duress should have been able. It caused Ganondorf to pause, to more fully take in the hostile position he held.

Link’s wiry frame was thinned, but not frail. His skin seemed stretched over hard musculature, as though he’d spent his week of confinement doing sit-ups in the dark and forgetting to drink enough water. There was no way for Link to keep time in the windowless prison. There wasn’t much of a means for Ganon to keep time either, though it mattered little. His focus was on breaking the vessel containing the Triforce piece he wanted, an endeavor that was proving more difficult than anticipated.

Generally, being confined in a small dark space with no indication of how long one had been there led to impressive mental breakdowns. It wasn’t unusual for the intended victim to be on their knees within days, begging for some sort of release and willing to give up significant chunks of dignity to get just five minutes of freedom.

So far, Link was exhibiting none of those qualities. He looked disgusting, and the room stunk to high heaven, but it seemed the longer he’d marinated the more angry and belligerent his glares had become. If he was ever going to pry the Triforce of Courage off the stubborn brat, he was going to have to work a little harder.

Ganondorf cursed quietly under his breath. As annoying as it all was, he supposed it wasn’t too unexpected. In some ways, it was a little gratifying to know the hero wasn’t so easily broken. Regardless, nothing productive was going to happen until he managed to crack Link’s strange stoicism.

“Such ill-placed faith belies an ignorance of your use.” Ganondorf taunted, crossing his arms with casual indifference. “You were designed for one job, Hero, and you did a marvelous job, I’m forced to admit, but that doesn’t mean your freedom is worth more than my imprisonment.”

Something hard flashed briefly across Link’s face. His brows furrowed slightly deeper. Other than that he remained unmoved, glaring at the wall, though Ganondorf could tell he was listening.

“The Sages must have been desperate,” He continued. “Using a clueless kid to enact the will of the Goddesses…perhaps your replaceable nature made it easy. If you fell in battle, the Triforce of Courage would simply manifest in another.”

A subtle thread of confusion and worry seemed to leak into his stare. He shifted on the floor, remaining quiet and reserved as uncertainty fluttered across his face. Ganondorf smirked. He decided to let him stew on his words for a bit, aiming to attack at another angle. Blatant horror overtook Link’s expression when Ganondorf grabbed the lone chair by the door and made himself comfortable inside the cell.

“It seems the Sages saw fit to leave you in the dark about a number of things, so I’ll do you a favor and clue you in on your situation here.”

The younger’s eye’s quickly narrowed, his ears pitching low at the cruel tone. Ganondorf leaned forward, staring directly into his eyes.

“ _No_ _one_ is coming to save you, Link. If they were, they’d have done it already. It’s only a matter of time before your Princess returns the Master Sword to its pedestal, locking the doors to the sacred realm and sealing our fate. You and I are going to be here, together, until our minds rot and we both go mad. There is no end to this eternity, Hero, not even through death.”

Link had gone very still, what little color remained in his face washed out.

“We can either make the duration of our stay bearable, or continue on as we have. It doesn’t seem to be doing you much good, but I can’t change anything if you refuse to cooperate.”

Link’s consternation lingered as a haunting shadow while his expression slowly morphed into true confusion. He opened his mouth to say something, finally, and then stopped, brows furrowing before coughing and trying again. When he finally spoke, it was with an insulting slowness aimed directly at Ganondorf’s sensibilities.

“…All you’ve been doing is torturing me.” Link croaked. “What do you want me to do? Say please?”

Ganondorf snorted. Sarcastic little shit.

“Impressive. I didn’t know you were capable of stringing together more than a single sentence. Maybe if you demonstrated some civility beyond glaring, I’d find it worthwhile to do so in kind. I don’t plan on keeping you in here forever, you know.”

Link stared at him skeptically. To underscore his doubts, he looked pointedly to the wooden bucket and drain hole. Ganondorf laughed.

“Oh you’ll be here for a while,” He replied as though they were having a delightful day at Lake Hylia. “But once I’ve brought you to heel a bit, I see no reason to keep you in this kennel.”

Link scowled at that, ears pitched back down.

“…My friends will not abandon me here.” He replied quietly.

Ganondorf gave him an indulgent smile.

“The Sages are not your friends. Perhaps at one time, a few may have been, but that relationship was lost when the call of sacred duty required higher responsibilities. Why do you think they all left after you awoke them?” Ganondorf watched Link give a little flinch. “To a Sage, the Hero of Time is but a single piece in a larger game. Another Hero will rise when they need of it. You can be easily forgotten. In fact, you _have_ been.”

“ _Shut-up!_ ”

Link surprised himself at the outburst, and the vitriol of his own voice, but the cleaving pain of Ganondorf’s words overrode it. He spoke so casually, so indifferently, as if it were a truth everyone but him knew about. For a brief moment, Ganondorf looked a little stunned as well, before an oily grin spread across his face, something wicked dancing in the light of his red eyes.

“Mmm, so _that’s_ how to get a reaction out of you. Bring up your obvious abandonment issues. This must be cutting you pretty deep then.”

Rage that Link was mostly unfamiliar with boiled to the surface. He knew it was too soon to let himself get worked up, to let Ganondorf snake his way into his head like this. Somehow, the Demon King was nailing down all the unspoken insecurities that plagued his thoughts, the fears that had threatened to break him in the unending darkness of his prison.

It was only by counting through a militant regiment of repetitive exercises, to the point of absolute exhaustion, that he managed to keep his mind from consuming itself during his long isolation. It was a foolish and damaging management system, but he’d been too desperate to care. Amidst the mania, Link had discovered the plate and pitcher left behind refilled of their own accord, but only enough to keep him alive. Everything felt too raw and fragile, underfed and wounded, like an exposed nerve that couldn’t be pinned down. It was disturbing to hear his anxieties spoken into reality by another, as if it were obvious fact. It made the pain of it all so much more real.

Link set his jaw, taking in the sight of a very self-satisfied enemy and feeling stupid. He had to get control of himself. No matter what Ganondorf said, true or not, he was just trying to bait him. Link preferred fighting with a sword, but he wasn’t unfamiliar with the many tactics of a bully.

“What do you want from me?” he snapped coldly.

“A little self-awareness would be nice, but if that’s too much to ask, we could try starting with some subservience.”

Link barked out a harsh laugh.

“I don’t think this is going to work out. Maybe you should just go back to torturing me.”

Ganondorf paused for a moment, and then his presence seemed to loom, swallowing the remaining space of the cramped dungeon. An icy severity shadowed his words.

“I think you underestimate the weight of eternity, Hero. There is no escaping this reality.”

The younger glared mutinously, but kept his jaw shut. The larger man spoke with a cold, dead weight, daring the other to refute its truth. The most harrowing part was that Link knew he couldn’t escape this world on his own. This time, he had no choice but to rely on others. He was cut off, completely on his own, and they both knew it.

And so he was back to where he’d been all along, waiting and enduring.

“Perhaps we can work out some sort of arrangement.” Ganondorf continued, sounding much more peaceable now that he had Link feeling cornered. “There’s no need to make the duration of our stay miserable, unless you want to insist on it.”

Link didn’t respond for a long time, keeping his glare steady. This felt like a trap, but despite what he’d said, he _really_ didn’t want to spend another eternity in solitary confinement. Or subject himself to the whip for hours on end.

“What…sort of arrangement?”

Ganondorf shrugged unhelpfully, a light smile on his face.

“Are you hungry?”

Well that wasn’t what he expected to hear. The younger blinked, thrown off by the deceptive innocence of the question.

“Um…”

“It’s not a difficult question, Link. Are you hungry or not?”

The glare that had briefly flitted away returned swiftly, enmity settling back in. Ganondorf was such an _ass_ about everything.

“Of course I am.”

“Mm.”

He stood, causing Link to startle, but the other did nothing more than leave the tiny dungeon. Link watched him go, brows furrowed in confusion. He would have supposed this was another cruelty on the other man’s part, to make him admit to the hunger clawing at his stomach and then leaving him alone to wallow in it, but Ganon didn’t close the cell door behind him, or even the iron door beyond it. Either he was very confident Link couldn’t escape again, or he planned on coming back.

Probably both.

Sure enough, he returned a short while later. It was the smell of what he carried that reached Link first, eliciting all the starved parts of himself to immediately perk up. Ganondorf sauntered in carrying a plate of food, real, _palatable_ food. It wafted steam as though fresh from a fire, mounded and drizzled in a dark, savory sauce. The dish smelled like meat, and spices, and grains, and mouthwatering nutrition. A powerful ache of want rose up within Link, tumbling with a swell of dread that almost made him feel sick.

Accepting food from an enemy was never wise. Saria told him as much before he left the forest. It always brokered an unspoken contract.

His stomach, empty and cramped in a state of near starvation, yearned for it beyond reason. The Korkiri didn’t know the pain of hunger. It didn’t help that food was, by consequence, an embarrassing weakness of his. He did not like the idea of Ganondorf lording this over him, as he was surely about to do. Link didn’t want to think about what he’d have to do in order to get that food.

The Gerudo King laughed at the naked wanting that had overtaken his captive’s face, enjoying the way Link’s entire body stiffened. The kid wasn’t so stupid as to expect to be given something for nothing, and it left Ganondorf feeling doubly satisfied.

He resumed his place in the chair, sitting across from Link’s coiled, wary form. For a long moment, neither spoke.

“…What do you want?” Link finally asked, his quiet voice pitched with resentment.

An oily grin spread wide across Ganondorf’s face. He spread his legs wider, creating a space between his knees and holding the dish invitingly. With his other hand, he made a come-hither motion, pinning Link with a mean, bold stare.

The younger felt his face pinch in offense. Everything in him pushed back against the suggestion Ganon put forth, of willingly putting himself in strangling distance at the mercy of his most violent enemy. Never mind that he was bound and on his knees. No way was food worth tha—

“You can always go back to eating stale nuts off the floor.”

Farore, damn him.

Ganondorf seemed to enjoy watching Link mull it over. The younger knew he could survive on stale nuts, but the issue wasn’t just surviving at this point. He’d need his strength to break out of the manacles, strength he couldn’t get from the meager subsistence Ganon had been giving him thus far. A tiny part of him wondered how true that was, or if he was just grappling for an excuse.

Distain lined every inch of Link’s face and posture.

Against his better instincts, he inched himself closer, ignoring the deafening alarms that blared in his skull. He swallowed down a lump of bitterness at the sight of Ganondorf’s triumphant smile. The larger man wasn’t satisfied until Link was settled directly between his knees and entirely too close for comfort. Tension and fear turned his stomach over, casting a nauseous discomfort. Link glared off to the side, squeezing his fists behind his scarred back as he waited for whatever pain Ganondorf planned on inflicting.

He put a heavy hand on his head, causing Link to flinch as a jolt of fear ran through him. The anxiety of being so near him, with no means to defend himself, left a dizzying lightness, which persisted no matter how much he sought to banish it. Ganondorf tilted Link’s head back slowly, demanding his eyes without a word. It was in the moment their gazes locked that Link realized this wasn’t about pain, it was about _humiliation_ , and he felt incredibly stupid again.

Throughout his adult adventures, people had often poked fun at his apparent naivety. It was always harmless, said in a fond, sometimes even endearing way. Even Navi tended to laugh it off. Link had always figured it was one of those irritating traits that came from going to sleep as a child and waking up an adult. It wasn’t until now that he realized it was a potentially dangerous character quality.

Ganondorf continued without a word, keeping the self-satisfied smile as he plucked a piece of braised meat off the plate. Link knew what was coming now, and it was through a battle of nausea and fury that he glared hatefully at the hand offering him food. He felt the burn of shame, embarrassed at how easily he’d been played a fool for something so simple as a good meal.

But—a quiet, more forgiving voice inside him reasoned—food was far from simple when you were skirting the edge of starvation and desperate for escape. If he didn’t have the courage to swallow his pride, he’d end up wasting away here forever, deep underground in a living grave where the Sages could never find him.

That thought alone was more terrifying than the prospect of eating out of Ganondorf’s hand. All that aside, the prospective look on Ganondorf’s face when he busted out of the manacles and escaped again—successfully this time—was going to be worth whatever bullshit games he tried to play here. Link felt the tension inside unwind, casting away the yoke of indignity. Really, if the larger man wanted to be so generous, who was he to refuse?

It was with a significantly lightened mien that he opened his mouth and took the proffered food.

The larger man didn’t seem too impressed with Link’s apparent readiness. The self-satisfied smile had hardened somewhat, but didn’t disappear. It didn’t bode well for Link, but he tried to take it in stride, which was easier than one might expect because _damn_ the food was good. Maybe it was because he’d been eating bare, dirtied morsels for Goddesses knows how long, but this tasted almost as good as his first bite of roasted meat in Castle Town so long ago.

Ganondorf was understandably disgruntled with Link’s lack of visible shame. Many of his plans predicated a state of broken or at least cracked self-worth. He resolved to push him farther. Maybe Link could stomach the indignity of eating from his enemy’s hand, but Ganon could easily make it more debasing.

The second piece of meat was intentionally selected, glazed with an aromatic sauce that oozed thick over the sides. It was unavoidable that it would drip down the skin of his fingers. Link didn’t seem fazed, taking the second bite with the same quiet indifference as the first. Ganondorf continued holding his hand out even after the food was gone, looking pointedly at the sauce dripping down his fingers.

“Clean up your mess.” He told him plainly, like chastising a child.

Link bristled at the tone, and again further at what Ganondorf demanded of him. It was unnecessary, done purely for the sake of making him uncomfortable. Contempt burned in his gut fierce enough to set the hand before him on fire, but Link held himself in control, thinking only of escape. He knew the over-sized bastard was always going to be unnecessarily cruel in his regard. He just had to deal with it until this nightmare was far behind him.

Ganondorf enjoyed the other’s shifting expressions, responding to his ornery glare with a smirk as Link did what he was told. The blonde hero seemed determined to ignore him, staring at his task and considering the best way to go about it for a moment. Carefully, he lowered his head and dragged his tongue along the length of Ganon’s thumb. It was a deeply gratifying sensation, witnessing his enemy lap at his hand like a dog. Really, what was the Hero but a dumb beast to be ordered around by—

Link wrapped the heat of his mouth around Ganondorf's fingers, pressing a warm tongue against his skin and dragging his lips up to clean the remaining mess in one deft move. This time the gratifying sensation was felt elsewhere, eliciting a low hum deep in his chest. Link looked up curiously, brow quirked as he came off the digits with an audible pop.

Ganondorf stared at him.

“…How old are you, boy?”

He gave a jerky shrug, sitting back on his heels.

Ganondorf continued to stare, relenting with a snort.

“…I suppose you wouldn’t know, would you? Feral creature that you are...”

Link blinked and shrugged again, glancing to the plate of food as if to ask for more. By Din’s fire, he was clueless. Still, Ganondorf was only too happy to oblige him, an illicit, unexpected thought taking root. The thought grew and established as Link took one bite after another, licking up any remaining juices with his tongue, requiring little prompting and offering only baleful glares in response. It occurred to Ganondorf that an eternity was a long time for a man to endure alone, be he a feral creature or a maledict King.

He decided to let such illicit ideas rest for now. If anything was going to be tedious, it was going to be bending Link toward his will from an angle that had him bending over. Admittedly, such a thing would yield a wildly more satisfying end for himself as well, but it was much too soon to discern if Link even had an appetite for such a relationship.

When the plate was clean, the Hero sat back with a quiet sigh, some of the color back in his face and fatigue burdening his usual glare. Ganondorf leaned down to grab the pitcher from the floor, beckoning Link close again to help him take a long drink. Properly fed and watered for the first time in what felt like ages, the younger man practically swayed where he kneeled, looking ready to fall over in sleep. Ganondorf wasn’t quiet ready to let him go just yet, though. After all, they’d never get anywhere exciting if he didn't push.

“Turn around.” He ordered.

“Why?”

Ganondorf rolled his eyes, wondering why he had to be cursed with such a petulant prisoner. He didn’t wait for the other to be more difficult, standing and manhandling him into the position he wanted. Link tossed him a haggard glower, shrugging off his hands the second he was settled back between his knees, this time facing the wall. They had to shift a little to accommodate the chain, but it couldn’t be helped.

With the kind of power at his disposal, it didn't take much effort to manipulate a small hole through space and time for the sake of retrieving a hair comb from his bathroom far above the tiny dungeon. Perhaps an indulgent use of divine power, but it was his by right, so he felt inclined to use it however he saw fit.

The younger man flinched the moment he started fingering the dirty, blonde strands on his head. He was in dire need of a proper bath, but didn't deserve that luxury just yet. The ungrateful brat barely deserved this, though it mattered little. It wasn’t really for him anyway.

Link settled as it became clear no injury was going to come from Ganon's touch, though the tension in his posture refused to relent. The larger man continued to pick and clean at his hair, slowly working the comb through twisted knots. A vague unease sat in Link’s gut. He tried to keep himself still whenever he felt hands on his scalp. Why the man insisted on doing this went beyond his weary understanding, but as long as he didn't have to lick his damn fingers anymore, Link supposed he didn't much care. At least Ganondorf wasn't as rough as he expected him to be.

In fact, his ministrations were disturbingly pacifying. Link felt himself begin to unwind without consciously doing so, his posture sagging. It was easier than he expected to ignore who was behind him and focus simply on the feel of fingers threading through his hair. After so long of violent, painful treatment, it was difficult to remain hostile to the more gentle touch. Bone-deep exhaustion was rapidly succumbing to the rhythmic work. A brush was introduced, and Link soon felt himself start to nod off. He didn't fight when a large hand eased his head against something warm and firm, and then the brush was back, slowly moving down his scalp until Link was lulled to sleep.

Ganondorf could tell the moment his smaller inmate passed out. The last dregs of tension finally leaked away, the full of his weight leaning against his leg. Ganondorf continued, staring without much expression as he considered Link. For all their mutual ill-will, the smaller man possessed more fortitude than he wanted to admit. A decision needed to be made on how to handle it.

Breaking the Hero wasn't the only way to acquire his Triforce piece, and it might well prove to be as tedious as the rest of his options. All signs of Link’s behavior so far certainly suggested as much. The Hero wasn't one to put on a show, and beating a surly, glowering prisoner was only fun for so long. Even as a means to vent, Ganondorf wondered if such exchanges might eventually grow sterile, clinical. What fun, really, was a broken toy?

He set the brush down, pulling yellow hair into a traditionally high ponytail and knotting it with fresh cord. Link’s weight was almost nothing to move. He remained dead to the world as Ganondorf laid him down beside the wall, adjusting his arms so they wouldn’t fall asleep under him.

Ganondorf stroked his own chin as he stood, idly scratching at his facial hair and staring down at Link. In the end, all that mattered was acquiring the Triforce of Courage from the obstinate brat.

He was a patient man, and they had all the time in the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hhhhnnnnnngh. This chapter stresses me out. 
> 
> Thank you for all the comments! I can't tell you how encouraging they are. It's a little pathetic how often I re-read them, but I'm okay with being pathetic. :D
> 
> Quick note, just in case it's not clear, Link is not a minor in this story. I think he has some glaring knowledge gaps, but I don't think he has the mind of an actual child. Hopefully that's presented clearly.


	7. Chapter 7

Link felt certain he was close to losing his mind.

"Your princess will return the Master Sword soon, sealing both our fates."

Ganondorf's words fell flat in the tiny chamber. Link stared up at the dirty ceiling, waiting for him to leave.

His silent insolence didn't seem to bother the larger man today. Ganondorf sat in a relaxed posture across from him, in his usual chair, draped in layers of rich color accented with gold jewelry. As the days had progressed, he’d slowly forgone the familiar battle armor piece by piece, opting for more comfortable and distinctly Gerudo clothing. Embellished fabric highlighted his large stature, which crowded the tiny cell. He picked idly at his nails, occasionally flicking dirt at Link because, for all his airs of royalty, he was still a petty ass.

"You're only embarrassing yourself, holding out on the Sages like this. I can't decide if you're naive or stupid."

"Maybe it's both" Link muttered dryly.

Ganondorf gave pause at the long fought reaction, a small smile lifting one corner of his mouth. Never mind that it was sarcasm. Link glanced briefly at him and rolled his eyes, consequences be damned. Ganondorf chuckled.

Some days he was not so patient with Link or his sour attitude. Some days it didn't matter how much he cowered or held his tongue, Ganondorf would lash out with enraged violence at the slightest provocation, or sometimes without provocation at all. Link would be left bleeding and crippled on the floor, struggling to keep his wits against a volatile enemy with no where to run. Those were the bad days, and they almost always led to more than one treatment of red potion.

Today seemed to be a good day, though. It was the kind of day that allowed Link to dwell on the unknown passage of time, wondering how long he'd sat staring at the dirty ceiling, waiting for help. Long enough to fear the weeks had perhaps turned into months, the stretch of time shadowed by deafening silence from his friends. In moments like these, Link wasn't sure if he preferred the good days over the bad ones. It was easier to identify the greater enemy when he was repeatedly punching him in the face.

Aside from being contained in a tiny, cold dungeon for who knows how long, he was now being regularly entertained by aforementioned greater enemy. Ganondorf visited, with varying degrees of predictability, in three regular intervals, and always came bearing a plate of mouth-watering food.

“It’s a shame you stuck your nose up to this.” He said through a mouthful of something warm and fruity, licking at the sugar glaze it left behind. “I think I outdid myself. Thought for sure I’d get you with this one.”

That’s how long they’d been playing this stupid game. The King of Evil now knew what his favorite foods were, and yes, apple pastry was one of them.

“Guess you’ll have to try a little harder if you want me to lick your fingers.” Link replied blandly.

Ganondorf rose an eye brow, amusement sparking behind vermillion irises.

“Dully noted.”

Link lifted his head to glance at him, furrowing his brows at the oddly pitched lilt to his tone. They stared at each other for a long moment. Link had the distinct feeling he was missing something. He finally scowled at Ganondorf and turned back to the ceiling, ignoring his low chuckle.

The price of the food was always the same. Link was only allowed more substantial meals if he consented to eating them out of Ganondorf’s hand. Otherwise, it was back to scrounging for stale nuts off the floor. As awful and annoying as the arrangement was, Link was at least grateful to have the option of choice. He let himself indulge in one substantial meal a day…sometimes two if he really needed the extra nutrition. It had nothing to do with the Gerudo’s cooking.

The routine served as a some semblance of structure. All of the effort seemed to revolve around Ganon trying to curate some sort of bizarre dependency between them, which went exactly nowhere as each attempt fell flat against Link’s taciturn belligerence. More often than not, a few scathing comments would be all it took to initiate episodes of violence, some that would occasionally leave him unconscious for unknown lengths of time. Nothing was more disorienting than waking up to darkness with a pounding headache, broken bones, and nothing to do but wait until his warden returned. Ganondorf always came bearing food, red potion, and false sympathy, like some hypocritical version of a concerned medical attendant.

Pairing days, the perceived nights were heralded by the torch against the wall. Alone in his cell he would watch the light slowly fizzle out and die, plunging him into hours of darkness. Even then he wasn’t completely safe. Since his first escape attempt, Ganondorf had visited two different times in the night, upending Link’s restless slumber with a furious chaos of abuse. In each instance, the larger man had been enraged beyond reason, his breath heavy with the smell of something thick and pungent. Both times had left Link shaking and fractured in the dark, pleading broken whispers to friends who had yet to answer.

Those two occasions were notable in their unusual levels of violence, however, and the last of them occurred so long ago even the worst of the lingering wounds had faded. More notable was Ganondorf’s behavior afterwards. In both instances, he’d returned the next morning wearing a stony expression, refusing to make eye contact as he left red potions and a plate full of Link’s favorite foods in reach. Then he’d left without a word, returning the next day to act as if nothing strange had happened.

It made Link uncomfortable. It almost seemed like he was trying to apologize for the horrible blind assaults, which was worse than the abuse itself, and above all, made no sense. It wasn’t as if Ganon hadn’t beat him within an inch of his life before, so why was doing so without warning in the night any different? It was as though he had some bizarre code of conduct to his violence, rather than just a mindless bestial nature. Seeing small glimmers of humanity in Ganondorf made Link feel irrationally angry and he couldn’t figure out why.

“Why do you keep coming down here?” He muttered, rolling sore shoulders and twisting his wrists against the shackles.

“It’s your winning personality.”

Link cast him a dour glare, shifting to sit against the wall and trying to get comfortable. It was mostly a lost cause. Ganondorf sighed, as though Link were being deliberately obtuse.

“What _else_ do you expect me to do? Detestable though you may be, you’re the only other living entity in this damned void. I might as well reap some level of entertainment from your miserable hide.”

He said all of this while picking carelessly at a stray thread on his sleeve, heedless to his own cruelty. Link stared at him, wondering how a man could become such a monster and bare it so casually. The desperate need to get out and as far away from him as possible itched more insistently. Link didn’t understand why his friends were taking so long. Perhaps it had something to do with being out of reach. He needed to escape this dungeon as soon as possible and find a way out of the labyrinth Ganondorf had constructed above.

All of which was going to be much more difficult if the man insisted on bothering him at least three times a day.

“You have magic don’t you? You re-created the Gerudo fortress, so just…make something more entertaining for yourself and leave me the hell alone.”

Ganondorf barked out a laugh, casting Link a patronizing sneer.

“You don’t know much about anything, do you? Magic isn’t some inexhaustible resource. It has very defined limits. For someone supposedly raised in a forest imbued with such forces, you seem pretty ignorant to how it works.”

Link leveled a quiet glare at the self-assuming Gerudo. He had clearly never set foot in the forest he spoke of, other than to kill its sacred guardian.

“The magic of the Lost Woods isn’t something to be manipulated.”

For him, it was typically something to endure, sometimes even to fear. Saria had always done whatever she could to make him feel like part of the forest, even though he didn’t have a fairy and even though he more easily befriended the Skullchildren than his fellow Korkiri. She’d done a good job too. He still believed himself Korkiri even after waking up with an adult body, assuming—hoping—it was simply the magic of the divine sword that put him in such a form. Navi tried to gently hint at the truth, but he was too determined to remain delusional. It wasn’t until speaking with the Deku sprout that he couldn’t ignore reality any longer, and the weight of it had been crushing.

So many things made a painful amount of sense when the Deku Sprout told him he wasn’t a Korkiri, that he had never, in fact, been apart of the magic that constantly surrounded him.

Though he understood the whispers that filtered through the trees and could feel the hum of life in each leaf…he was never able to carry it in his breath like the other Korkiri. Magic flowed and danced from them as second nature, like it was an extension of their being, while he was only ever caught in the threads, left struggling to catch up. The forest would always be home in his heart, but he now understood that he could never be apart of it.

Ganondorf didn’t need to know any of this. He had no business knowing one of the most painful and personal aspects of his life, especially considering the role he played in upending it. Link had nothing more to say to the man, fully rendered to such a foul mood that he couldn’t be bothered to look at him anymore. Ganondorf must have picked up on the nerve he hit, and like an ass, couldn’t be bothered to leave it alone.

“Is this another sore spot with you?” He spoke offhandedly. “Sheik mentioned you had issues with not being a true Korkiri.”

Link froze, his stomach plummeting.

_Sheik._

That was not a subject he wanted to discuss with anyone, _ever_ , least of all _Ganondorf_.

He immediately shut down. His captor, on the other hand, was looking more interested by the second.

“And I see we have yet _another_ sore subject. You’re practically giving yourself away here, Link.”

He hated him. He hated him with every fiber of his being. Ganondorf sat, visibly enjoying himself, picking him apart without even trying. He looked as relaxed as Link was tense, completely unbothered. Worse, Link couldn’t figure out how he was doing it so easily. It felt like every time he opened his mouth he ran the risk of inadvertently revealing more than he intended, but the alternative was listening to a monologue about how everyone he knew was abandoning him.

There was no winning against this asshole unless he happened to have the Master Sword in hand, which he unfortunately didn’t.

“You can go back to torturing me at any time.”

“Oh judging by your stony disposition, I’d say this is plenty torturous enough.” Ganondorf chuckled. “You must be the first Hylian I’ve met who _didn’t_ want to talk about himself.”

He would not take the bait. It was weak anyways. There was nothing more for them to discuss. There never had been.

“I can see we won’t be getting much farther today though.” The larger man mused, standing and brushing off his pants. Link continued to ignore him.

“Have fun pouting in the dark, Hero. I’ll visit later.”

He left, the doors shutting heavily behind him.

The scowl on Link’s face was brittle, and soon crumbled in the relative safety of isolation. Exhaustion that went deeper than bone dragged at his fortitude. He felt thin, worn out, even though he’d done nothing but sit in a cell for the start of an eternity. Link pulled weakly at the manacles again, going through motions as plaguing emptiness swirled inside him.

He wanted to go home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How many times can Link call Ganondorf an ass in one chapter? Have I worn out that insult yet? :D
> 
> So concerning Sheik...well we'll get into that next chapter. I don't want to spoil things but I also want to talk about everything and I dunno where the line is. lol I'm having so much fun with this story, especially now that we're getting to the juicy bits! (not the literal juicy bits lololol that's not gonna happen for a looooong time)


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HERE WE GO DON'T MIND THE CAPSLOCK I DRANK TOO MUCH VODKA

_“You shouldn’t be so reckless.”_

_Sheik’s quiet voice, low, and with the soft timber of running water, filled the small room. Cuccos clucked distantly out the shuttered window, melding with the hum of Kakariko Village. Link shifted uncomfortably on the bed, holding his right arm aloft so his friend could treat a nasty looking gash._

_It ran from elbow to wrist, still leaking a slow trickle of blood at the widest margins. The wound wasn’t deep, but it was violent, his skin ripped and torn as if a meat grinder had tried to attack him. It wasn’t too off the mark, really. Peahats weren’t known for clean attacks in any measure._

_“I wasn’t trying to be…” Link mumbled, lying straight through his teeth._

_Sheik gave him a dead-panned stare._

_“You jumped on a peahat. I was there.”_

_Link scratched the back of his head, unable to look his friend in the face. When he said it like that it sounded down-right insane._

_“In my defense, stabbing them from the top actually worked out pretty well. I just forgot about the babies they shoot out.”_

_Sheik shook his head, one visible eye rolling skyward. The fell into a gentle silence as the Sheikah warrior dropped measured doses of potion into the wound, ignoring the twitches of pain they elicited. Link watched as he treated the injury with a methodical slowness, taking his time to wrap the long gash. The lulling motions left his mind to drift, an increasingly dangerous thing now that he was an adult. He didn’t like dwelling, and it seemed it was all he could do in moments of stillness._

_“You’ve been reckless since the Water Temple.” Sheik spoke again, his voice quiet, but cutting._

_Link narrowed his eyes by a fraction, remaining silent. He liked to talk about the subjects of his dwelling even less. Unfortunately, his companion wasn’t so easily dissuaded._

_“What happened?”_

_It was a good thing Navi was asleep. She’d jump at the opportunity Sheik was presenting, and then he’d never hear the end of it. Link frowned at the softly glowing fairy, curled up in his hat that lay discarded on the bed. He could ignore Navi’s nagging questions all day, but Sheik wasn’t the same way._

_“…I had to fight a shadow version of myself. It didn’t go well.”_

_Sheik was quiet for a long moment, long enough that the wound was well-tended and they both remained where they sat, staring into different corners of the room._

_“The enemy excels at making monsters of ourselves.” He eventually murmured, almost like he was talking to himself._

_Link cast him a curious glance, but the other was so lost in thought he didn’t notice, which was unlike him. When he finally did look up, instead of the usual guarded placidness, there was an uncommon depth of concern in his eyes._

_“Tell me about it.”_

_And so Link did._

The memory sat like mud in his mind, now.

It had been the first time his friend looked at him like that, as if they suffered the same. In the quiet of that evening, he found himself unloading more than expected, ever grateful that Navi lay sleeping so he didn’t have to see the pity in her eyes again.

Sheik treated his troubles differently, listening and helping when Link couldn’t find the correct words, holding space in a way few others had. He did not judge him for his self-doubt or fear, or the uneasy bitterness he sometimes felt about his role in Hyrule’s greater destiny. It was that pivotal conversation where Link confided the pain of losing his place among the Korkiri, the ache that he’d never had a place among them at all. It was the first time he’d spoken such heartache aloud. Sheik had seemed so understanding, encouraging him to speak even when the tightness in his throat made it difficult.

He was so unbelievably _stupid_ for ever trusting him.

In the cold darkness of his prison, the error felt all the more egregious. Sheik had taken that private conversation and put it directly into Ganondorf’s ear. A shamed blush burned across his face at the thought of it. He was a child all over again, out of his depth in a world of increasingly more threats. Only now the threats had grown beyond monsters and deadly puzzles. Now they came wearing a friendly face, inviting safety amidst times of uncertainty until the truth was laid bare, embedding a knife of a different sort in one’s back.

The knot of heartache and confusion swelled in his chest, ballooning with unvented pressure. He’d barely had time to process Sheik’s betrayal after Twinrova threw it in his face, enraged by her own defeat.

_“Link, now!”_

_The mirror shield, burning with the charged heat of Twinrova’s attack, absorbed yet another blast of fire. Link felt his arm sear against the pulsing metal for a split second before the energy boiled over, reflecting back at the figure who cast it._

_Twinrova screamed, her body burning and smoking. She crumpled to the ground, trying to force her broken body up. Link was already vaulting across the platform, his sword swinging high._

_With the mindless violence of battle, he pierced her lacerated body, feeling the hilt of the Master Sword warm with divine magic and blood. She howled in fury, in agony, clawing weakly at Link’s singed tunic. He could hear it in her voice, the unmistakable gurgle of death. Twinrova didn’t seem to have noticed yet._

_“I’ll kill you, you insignificant peasant!”_

_Her words burned with murder, but she couldn’t muster the energy to do more than glare hatefully and leak blood. Link ripped is sword out of her gut, stumbling back. Navi flew anxiously around his face. Twinrova hissed as the retracted sword opened the fatal wound, more of her life spilling out. He could see it in her wild eyes now, the denial, anger, and fear of her own mortality. Link took a step back, keeping his sword and shield ready. Nothing was so dangerous as an enraged creature close to death._

_Twinrova panted, her face screwing up with hatred._

_“You will never defeat my son…the great Ganondorf will run you through and laugh as your blood spills across this wretched Earth...You are…no match for Demise incarnate…”_

_Link kept his grip steady on the sword, drawing strength from its stalwart energy. He said nothing and revealed nothing in his expression, waiting for the witch of the desert to expire. This was his last trial before he faced the Evil King, before the might of the Master Sword was put to test against supposed demise incarnate. He wouldn’t let the desperate rattling of a defeated enemy unsettle him._

_Twinrova must have detected the resolve in his silence, her gaze narrowing. The gritted scowl she wore suddenly twisted up into a sneer, a spark of malice brightening her eyes._

_“You’re a fool, Hero. You think you have a chance at success but you can’t even see the snake in your shadow.”_

_She drew in more labored breath, determined to get out her hateful speech before the end. Link frowned at her words, but still said nothing. Twinrova laughed, a thin, panting thing, slouching forward as her strength waned to dangerous levels._

_“All of your secrets…all of your faith…was foolishly placed in the ear of a spy…”_

_Link stared at her intensely, alarm quickening his heart. Her grinned widened as though she could hear it, ruthlessly delivering her final blow, an attack more debilitating than all her ice and fire combined._

_“You gave your loyalty so sweetly to our Sheikah agent…and he gave it all to the great Ganondorf! How can you hope to defeat a King such as he when you are but a hopeless child!”_

_Link couldn’t move, face paling. He was having a hard time processing her words, though they pounded against his skull._

_“He defeated you!” Navi screamed furiously, rushing to his defense but keeping a wary distance, her light burning hot._

_Something icy and dreadful was trickling down his veins, a unbearable weight plummeting through his gut. Sheik…Sheik wouldn’t…_

_Twinrova laughed, cackled loud and hard, blood spewing from her mouth._

_“You think you could have gotten as far as you have without the great Ganondorf allowing it!? You only live because you are nothing compared to his ultimate power! Nothing!”_

_Twinrova laughed and coughed, slouching to the floor with a full body wheeze._

_“You…will never defeat…”_

_It the space of a final breath, she died, a distant hollowness dulling her eyes. Link stared at her body, slowly noticing his own erratic breathing. His grip on the Master Sword had gone numb. The temple was silent around them, like a tomb._

_“Link…” Navi flew up to his face, putting her tiny hands on his cheek. “Link, look at me. We need to get out of here. For all we know Twinrova was throwing out desperate lies. Please, listen to me.”_

_He forced is eyes away from the withered, crumpled body on the floor. She didn’t look nearly so powerful in death. Link took another step back, the sword limp in his hands._

_“I…I need to find Sheik.”_

_Navi was quiet._

_“I don’t know if that’s a good—“_

_“I need to ask him. He…he won’t lie to me.”_

_“…Okay, Link.”_

The rush to the Temple of Time had been worse than he could have imagined. The only monsters that burdened him were his own thoughts, leaving him frail and hurt and angry all at once. Reasonably, he knew Twinrova could have been lying, but there were too many mysteries, too many timely coincidences surrounding Sheik to so easily pass it off. Perhaps confronting him directly was as stupid as trusting him, but it was all Link could think to do. Everything down to his bones felt shaken and betrayed.

Nothing was made better when he arrived at the Temple of Time. The person of his distress was waiting for him, offensively placid and controlled. Sheik had been blindsided by Link’s explosive hurt and anger, visibly alarmed. His guilt was equally palpable, and Link couldn’t understand why he would do such a thing, why he would work for Ganondorf and betray him so deeply, until he turned into Princess Zelda.

At that point, nothing made sense and there was little he could do but be pulled along by the events that summoned him. Ganondorf came, Zelda was gone, and now he was alone, rotting in an underground hole.

The vice of pressure in his chest shifted into ire, biting at his heart and leaving wounds that oozed equal parts misery and pain. He had all the time in the world to think about it now, but could barely bring himself to do so. Was Sheik even real? Had he put his faith and trust in someone who didn’t even exist?

Questions pushed insistently against his skull, falling flat with no where to go. Zelda would have been able to help him understand. Everything would have been fine if Ganondorf hadn’t dragged him into this pit. Without the ability to get answers, Sheik’s betrayal was left to fester like an open wound. The only thing worse would have been Navi leaving him after Ganondorf’s defeat.

Link tried to shake the darkness of that thought. He wasn’t doing himself any favors by thinking of things that hadn’t happened, or stewing on events he couldn’t change. The reality he had to face was that Ganondorf intended use whatever Sheik relayed to unhinge his resolve. By now it was abundantly clear the larger man was trying to chip away at the steadfast faith he held in his friends. For his own perverse amusement, it seemed crumbling whatever hope Link had was his main goal in each visit.

It was detestable, predictable behavior. Link had little patience for such mind-games, even less when the point of it all was so cruel. Unfortunately, the alternative was suffering Ganon’s wrath in a more violent fashion. He had to try escaping again. Soon. Things couldn’t get better until he was far away from the man, and there was no use waiting any longer.

Link pulled again at the manacles, a grim frown rooted on his features. He couldn’t see any other option but his most desperate one. He was not looking forward to breaking out of the metal restraints, nor the mad dash that would ensue afterwards. If he failed again, the consequences would undoubtedly be much more severe than the first. He tried not to think about it too much. Generally speaking, operating without a clearly defined plan worked better in his favor.

It wasn’t long before a pair of familiar heavy footsteps could be heard descending the staircase. Link felt nervous prickles dance up his arms at the other’s approach, shifting into a stronger posture from his seat on the floor. He barely had time to steel himself before the door of the dungeon swung open.

Ganondorf let himself in, baring a plate that was much more tempting than it had any right to be. Despite himself, Link’s stomach whined audibly. It was embarrassing. He refused to meet the Gerudo’s eyes, knowing damn well he was smirking at him.

“You could always drop your pride and indulge, you know. I promise I won’t tell anyone.”

Link scowled, glaring at the adjacent wall. Ganondorf chuckled as he opened the cell, making himself comfortable. He left both doors open behind him, a habit that had grown more and more consistent. Such confidence flaunted his own arrogance, and Link very much looked forward to knocking him down a few pegs.

The aroma from breakfast filled the entire dungeon, enticing Link more than he wanted to admit. Sarcasm aside, Ganondorf did have a point… He looked at the food as furtively as he dared, taking in a colorful pile of fruit floating in a bath of sweet cream and oats. Roasted, seasoned nuts topped the dish, and beside it, two strips of bacon sizzled as though fresh off the skillet.

He hated him so much.

A beat of silence passed. Link held his aslant scowl, occasionally sneaking a glance at Ganondorf, getting caught, and then glaring more furiously at the wall again. Meanwhile that god damned bacon sizzled and wafted in his direction as though the other man were intentionally waving the scent at him. He’d told himself he wasn’t going to take anymore food than strictly necessary, but in this moment, it was hard to remember why exactly. In fact, if he were going to try escaping later, he could use all the extra nutrition Ganondorf wanted to give him. It could even be considered aiding and abetting his escape, so really, the joke was on Ganondorf.

“…Fine, I’ll eat it.”

The smile on the other man’s face broadened significantly. It wasn’t as mean-spirited at Link expected. Instead, he seemed to find him genuinely amusing, and it had the oddest effect of softening some of the cruelty in his eyes. The whole thing made Link feel strange. He didn’t like it.

Of course, such whisper of benignity quickly evaporated when Ganondorf gave a sharp whistle, like calling a dog, pinning the younger with a teasing smirk. Link pitched his ears low, swallowing the angry snarl that threatened to rise up. It was unsettling how easily Ganondorf could get under his skin. He usually had a higher tolerance for bullies.

Link shoved his unease away, determined not to react to the goading. It took a significant force of will to shuffle closer and settle between the other’s spread limbs. He could feel his heavy stare above, unable to bring himself to meet it. Ganondorf bid him to look up with a careful touch at his jaw, eliciting a flinch.

“I’m not going to hurt you.” He said dryly.

Link didn’t dignify that with a response. He wasn’t stupid enough to fall for that level of bullshit, no matter how long it’d been since he last hit him.

Ganondorf allowed him the silence, scooping out a serving of oats and holding it aloft. Link ate, and the food tasted exceptionally good, thickening the latent shame in his gut. He burned with resentment at the sight of Ganondorf’s self-satisfied smirk, trying to focus on the fortress layout above to remove himself from the happenings of the miserable dungeon.

“You’ve quite a knack for following orders.” Ganondorf began lightly, aiming to hurt. “I suppose that come’s with the territory of being Hylia’s weapon.”

Link didn’t respond to the regular dehumanization either. He wasn’t really sure who Hylia was, and didn’t care to get a history lesson from the insufferable man. Something itched deep inside at the name, like a long forgotten memory, but it caused a feeling close to suffering and he’d had enough of that for a lifetime.

Ganondorf scooped out another spoon, bidding Link to look up again with a mild touch and holding him there. His skin buzzed unpleasantly at the sustained contact, but he met the larger man’s stare this time, effectively conveying his own hostility. Unfortunately, much like Sheik, Ganondorf was not so easily dissuaded.

“I have to admit, you’ve somehow managed to turn silence into an art form.” He slowly moved his thumb along Link’s jawline as he spoke, the uninvited motion raising goose bumps. “Sheik often said you were a man of few words…until you weren’t, I suppose.”

Dread sank deeper in his gut.

“If an equally reserved spy can get past your defenses, I’m sure I’ll find a way too. We have plenty of time, after all.”

Link pulled his jaw away from Ganondorf’s hold, a disgusted glare warping his features. He had no business being so callous other than for the sake of causing him suffering, to satisfy a want of revenge as though his banishment were unwarranted. It was piteous, foul behavior, hardly befitting the supposed King he once was. The more Link had to endure the man, the less surprised he was by his fall from grace among the Gerudo.

The young hero had no desire to converse. Soon enough he’d escape and be free of him. He was only cooperating for the offered meal.

Ganondorf let him pull away, ever smirking with his own amusement. He wordlessly bid Link to come back with a simple scoop from the bowl, a light dancing in his eyes.

“How long did you believe Sheik to be your friend?”

The question wrapped around his heart with the strength of a strangling ReDead. It took a moment to remember Sheik had never been Ganondorf’s friend either. Link knew he shouldn’t, but a biting response came out before he could stop it.

“How did it feel knowing Zelda was hiding under your nose the entire time?”

Something tightened in his eyes, but he remained calm.

“Vexing, I’ll admit. Many awry plans made much more sense in retrospect, but she doesn’t possess the Triforce of Wisdom for nothing. I imagine the betrayal wasn’t quite as cutting as discovering your confidant _and_ Princess were simultaneously in my ear. You’re rather poor at picking friends.”

Link bit his tongue, ignoring the way his heart further twisted. He knew he was just trying to goad him. Weariness left him feeling frustratingly weak to the poisoning words, despite how much he tried to dismiss them. Ganondorf let the weight of silence sit heavily in the air for a moment, spooning out more food. It tasted like ash.

“You’re a beguiling sort of hero, Link. It makes you easy to manipulate and use.”

His words cleaved into him with the sharpness of an ice pick, hollowing out the remaining soft parts inside.

“It makes you ripe for people like me, people prepared to pick up a discarded tool and use it for their own means. It’s exactly how I got into the sacred realm and reached the Triforce in the first place. I never got a chance to thank you for that.”

Link had been determined not to give him anymore emotional fodder, but it seemed Ganondorf already had everything he needed. A terrible guilt rose sharply, leaving him empty. His body felt brittle, a shell of bravado propped up by weathered scaffolding and splintering under weeks of pressure. He wanted nothing more than to crawl back to the corner of his cell and rot.

Sheik once told him it wasn’t his fault that Ganondorf destroyed Hyrule. On a dark night in the mountains, after his initial failure to kill a corrupted friend set to devour Hyrule’s Gorons, he’d sought to alleviate the weight he carried. Link could never quite buy into the idea that he wasn’t at least partially responsible for the seven years of suffering, seven years he spent sleeping while people like Sheik did whatever they had to do to survive. Like become a double agent. Having such guilt so easily thrown in his face, by Ganondorf no less, was disabling.

“I’m sure the Sages understand what a liability you are. They might even be content to leave you contained here, where you can’t hurt anyone through ignorance again.”

Link had nothing to say to that, his heart turning cold. He hadn’t considered such an awful possibility, that maybe the Sages would _want_ to keep him here. It explained why they’d been absent for so long. But surely not all of them would feel that way…surely Saria wouldn’t…

Several weeks ago he might not have wondered such a thing, but a more damning despair constantly threatened to drag him down nowadays, more deeply than even the Shadow Temple could accomplish. Though Link knew not to entertain Ganondorf’s ideas, objectively knowing wasn’t the same as feeling the punch they left in his gut. A spoon tapped patiently at his mouth. Link opened the hinge of his jaw mechanically, staring at the floor.

“No need to despair just yet, Hero. Only time will tell which of us is right. After all, Zelda has yet to lock the door to our prison.”

“It’s been weeks…” Link mumbled. Why was he arguing?

“Time is an illusion devised to punish here. There’s no telling how little or how long has passed in our mortal realm.”

Link slowly stared up at him, marveling with subdued horror at the bizarre glimmer of hope the other was inspiring. Ganondorf was not, under any circumstances, supposed to be a source of hope. How had they gotten to this point?

“…You speak like a snake.” He glared mutinously, feeling a clarifying rage course back in, invigorating his senses. He welcomed it with a desperate fierceness.

“Excuse me?”

“I’m not here to entertain your conniving bullshit, Ganondorf. I’m here because you _dragged me down_ after I defeated you. I know you have your own agenda, and I’ll not be apart of it. I’ve at least learned that much. You might as well do us both a favor and hitch me back up to that damned frame.” Link jerked his head toward the hanging whips, unfaltering in his furious glare.

The false sympathy in the other’s expression dried up, replaced by a more familiar coldness that hardened his features. Despite the rage storming behind ruby red eyes, he maintained a steady hand, holding up more food.

“Hm. …Perhaps you aren’t so stupid after all.”

Link quirked a brow, hesitating for a moment before accepting the spoon. He didn’t trust his deceptively calm exterior. Something both calculating and turbulent brewed under the expression, as though two different kinds of monsters were vying for control inside him. Despite this, Ganondorf fed him until the food was gone, a strained silence filling the gulf between them. Link waited for the inevitable madness to come crashing down, welcomed it, almost. Fighting against physical pain and enduring its abuse was a safer, more familiar battle arena.

Yet, instead of back-handing him, Ganondorf set the dish down, fished out a napkin from his pocket and pulled Link close without warning. He grabbed the back of his head, throwing him off balance with the sudden move. Link grunted and tried to move away, held like an unruly child as the larger man wiped his mouth.

“Despite your stalwart confidence and latent masochism,” Ganondorf muttered, heedless to Link’s discomfort. “There are other ways to unhinge a man.”

“Does it have to involve getting in my personal space?” Link spoke blandly, leaning away with an irritated scowl as Ganondorf finally let him go. His question, posed with thick sarcasm, sparked a sudden amusement in the other.

“It can.”

He had that strange tone in his voice again, low and implicating, with a smile to match. Link narrowed his eyes, trying to figure out what the hell he was getting at and wheeling from the man’s rapid mood swings. Ganondorf held his stare for a moment longer before something buckled in his expression.

“…Din’s fire, you have no idea what I’m getting at, do you?”

Link’s scowl automatically turned defensive. He wasn’t unfamiliar with the frustration of his inept social skills, and knew they were often a source of amusement for others, but generally such occasions happened in wildly different contexts. There were some things people just assumed he _knew_ , and apparently Ganondorf was one of them.

“Then speak plainly.” He snapped, patience fraying thin.

A dance of mischievous intent gleamed in the other’s sharpened eyes, his brow quirking in challenge. Link didn’t really know what he expected him to say, but it certainly wasn’t what came out of his mouth.

“Have you ever kissed anyone, Link?”

“I- _what?_ ”

Ganondorf’s smirk widened to a full grin.

“I asked, have you ever kissed anyone?”

A heated blush raged across his face as he flummoxed for a response. The temperature in the cell rose by several degrees.

“I-I don’t— _what_?”

Ganondorf burst into a laughter that filled the tiny dungeon and made Link feel about three inches tall.

“Why—why are you asking me this? What does that have to do with anything?” He hunched his shoulders, wielding anger like a shield against the thick shroud of embarrassment.

“Well you asked me to speak plainly, Hero.”

Link had to pause for a long moment to remember their previous exchange, to recall how they’d gotten to this point. Once he did, he felt his heart pump liquid panic through his veins. The blush moved to encompass his entire face and neck, turning about three shades darker.

“You-you can’t be serious.”

“Why not? Look how unhinged you are at the mere thought.”

“No,” Link glared, glancing aside and fighting the warmth on his face, violently banishing images of such intimacy, of _kissing_ — “You only seek to demoralize. I’m your only target, and you have nothing better to do.”

“Perhaps.” Ganondorf shrugged, a teasing smile on his face. “It’s certainly a more entertaining way to fluster the great Hero of Time. Who knew you were such a blushing young maiden?”

“ _Stop_. Why do you have to be such a giant asshole?”

“Hmph. For you,” Ganondorf began in a deadpanned tone, leaning over to grab Link’s retreating form and dragging him back. “It’s entirely personal. Now calm down. Despite your continued obstinacy, I will succeed in at least taming the rat nest on your head. It’s offensive.”

“ _Why_ —hey!”

Link tried to jerk away as Ganondorf grabbed his upper arms and planted him back in the space between his legs, facing the dingy wall this time. The teeth of a brush pulled through his knotted hair before he could yank away, a firm grip on his shoulder keeping him still.

“Why do you insist on doing this?” Link snapped, trying to pull away again and getting smacked in the head for his troubles.

“Because I want to. Stop moving.”

Link simmered furiously, still not quite able to shelve the blush from earlier. Their continued proximity didn’t help, nor did the memory of what happened the last time Ganondorf had insisted on brushing his hair. Link was pretty sure he’d fallen asleep on the man, which was mortifying.

The ire of their silence slowly eased and the alarming, but ultimately harmless suggestion of Ganondorf’s illicit ideas faded to nothing. Despite Link’s great effort to remain focused on his anger, it subsided on its own, pacified by the quiet pulls of the brush. Holding on to anger was an exhaustive process, and below the mires of vexation, he was weary. Still, he did not like the way his shoulders gradually relaxed, nor did he allow himself to enjoy the sensation of fingers gently fiddling through his neglected strands. The gentler touch inspired a lump of homesickness in his throat, leaving a physical ache in his chest that yearned for somewhere safer, somewhere less discomfiting.

“…Maintaining one’s hair and the arrangement of it has always been an important Gerudo custom.” Ganondorf spoke hesitantly, begrudgingly, stirring Link from the pit of his own thoughts. “It’s…an alleviating habit. You might be surprised to hear this, but this empty hell is as miserable for me as it is for you.”

Link sat very still. It felt like tiny fairies were suddenly buzzing around his skull. Ganondorf was…talking to him, practically _confiding_ in him. It was very strange. He was immediately hyper aware of every touch on his scalp.

“…I, uh…did not know that.”

Ganondorf scoffed.

“Of course you didn’t. That’s why I told you.”

The momentary lull of bewilderment evaporated. Link took a deep breath, resisting the urge to twist around and bite one of his fingers.

“I know you’re the King of Evil, but you don’t have to be so god damn rude all the time.”

Ganondorf snorted, a bitter laugh rumbling up through his chest.

“King of Evil…” he mused. “You Hylian’s lack imagination.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means exactly what I said.” His tone raised slightly, giving a short tug on his hair. “You fools remain blinded by an arrogance that rivals my own, willfully ignorant to the consequences of your oppressive cruelty.”

“What are you talking about?”

Ganondorf’s fingers stopped moving, gripping his head and yanking it back to look him in the eye. Link yelped, bracing his bound hands behind him awkwardly.

“Don’t you know your own history?”

Ganondorf was speaking to him through a thick veneer of patronization, but genuine incredulity was still detectable. Link finally jerked his head out of his grip, turning around to look at him on a more equal level.

“ _What_ history?”

Ganondorf blinked, the sneering expression slipping off his face and easing the sharpness of it. He paused, considering him for a moment.

“Of course…you were raised in an eternal forest by immortal children…what would you know of history?”

Link said nothing, quirking a brow. Ganondorf seemed to be talking to himself. He soon shook whatever pondering thoughts distracted him, pinning Link with a harder stare.

“You can hardly consider yourself exempt from Hylian politics, considering you are the product of them, but nevertheless, I will teach what your ilk have failed to pass on.”

Link’s eyes narrowed at the heavy condescension, but he figured Ganondorf didn’t know how else to talk to him. He couldn’t pretend he wasn’t _slightly_ curious. There’d hardly been time or opportunity during his adventures to hear much of anything about the wider world beyond its immediate Ganon-shaped crisis.

“Hylians are a self-righteous sort of people.” The larger man began, his words already thick with an embittered hate. Link resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “They prop up a fine veneer of peace and prosperity, but neglect to mention the exploitive gate-keeping that maintains their hegemony.”

Link stared at him, wondering if he should mention his lack of formal education. The blank look on his face must have conveyed enough, though, because Ganondorf gave a long-suffering sigh and restated himself.

“Hylian’s keep out people they don’t like to horde over the fertile lands of Hyrule. Namely, they deny the Gerudo. Do you think we reside in a lifeless desert by choice? My tribeswomen have spent generations trying to gain entry into Hyrule’s more forgiving clime, only to be turned away, violently, by the unforgiving despot. “

He clenched a fist, the one with the Triforce of Power emblazoned on it, staring at the symbol with a new kind of anger.

“The Royal Family has caused my people untold suffering, yet _I_ am the King of Evil for seeking to throw off their yoke, for desiring security and safety for my people.”

His angry eye turned on him, an intensity burning within that flashed amber.

“We have just as much a right to arable farm land, but instead they employed _you_ , a curated weapon granted by the Goddesses. They directed your sword however the need suited them, as though the Holy Three reside solely in their pocket, as though _I_ were not also blessed with such divine grace. _Who_ , then, is to say where the title, ‘Kind of Evil’ truly lies? If you ask my sisters and daughters, King Nohansen Hyrule has just as much, if not _more_ , to answer for than I!”

Link was leaning slightly away from the larger man, who had worked himself in a hearty rage. It wasn’t the same mindless, frothing anger seen after Zelda’s corrupted castle fell, the anger which turned him into a mindless beast, but it burned just as hot. This fury carried an intensity similar to what he’d seen in the Princess herself, directed at the very man before him. It was…confusing. Link pushed the unsettling comparison from his mind, turning instead to the heart of his words, though they left him equally troubled. It occurred to him, for the second time in his life, that he knew very little about the mantle he fought for, the Hylian Royal Family.

Ganondorf kept glaring down at him, waiting for some pre-conceived response with hackles already raised. Link didn’t have much to offer. There was too much to consider, too many clashing emotions that reminded him of Shiek’s necessary betrayal. They mixed with the memories of passing comments heard on his travels, of deep-seeded antagonisms between Gerudo and Hylian that he’d never had time to truly consider. He started to feel the creeping sense of naivety again, wishing a more trustworthy person were here to answer the growing slew of questions plaguing his mind. Zelda would know how to help him understand. She would be able to make everything clear, if only he weren’t stuck in this pit.

Link met Ganondorf’s ire with an even stare, slowly turning back around without comment.

“You have nothing to say?” Ganondorf scoffed. The brush pulled through his hair with less gentleness than before.

Link twitched at the rougher treatment, holding steady.

“…No.” He replied quietly. “I don’t.”

They fell into a bitter silence. The air grew thick with choked words and resented tension until Ganondorf shoved Link away, standing abruptly in the same motion. Link turned as the cell door clanged shut, watching the larger man leave the dungeon with a frigid stiffness.

He didn’t know what Ganondorf wanted to hear from him. He didn’t seem to know much of anything.

What more could they possibly have to say to each other?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THESE BOYS I SWAER


	9. Chapter 9

Link was confident the only thing that should—or could—exist between himself and Ganondorf was the Master Sword.

The larger man had repeatedly demonstrated how his way with words could be wielded as sharply as any weapon. He was not to be trusted, or his allegations considered in any capacity. Link knew this. It was this firm foundation that helped him withstand the torrent of prejudice against his friends and the repeated attempts to discredit his merit as a hero. Ganondorf only spoke in lies designed to hurt and manipulate. Of course he would speak ill of the Royal Family. Of course he would cast blame on their shoulders, try to use the suffering of his people to excuse his own murderous actions.

He was a malignant orchestrator, a manipulator. He was the embodied dark clouds of Zelda’s dreams, and the source of nightmares in his own. For all that mattered, he _was_ the King of Evil.

Despite such assuredness, a knot of ill-ease would not unravel in his gut. Maybe Ganondorf was a tyrant, but the people Link fought for all throughout Hyrule spoke against one another with a hate not dissimilar from the King of Evil himself. It left a bad taste in his mouth, like biting into a fruit that hid its rot at the center. It didn’t help that Link had to admit he knew next to nothing of the Kingdom he fought for, or, for that matter, the Kingdom he fought _against._

He at least knew Zelda, of that much he was certain. Her heart was pure and untainted by any of the harrowed darkness that plagued the rest of her people, or Ganondorf. Even as Sheik, that much had been clear. She—they—had always held a clear vision of justice and compassion for others, even in the darkest moments when Link himself was near despair.

But while Zelda was the much-beloved Princess of her people, she was still only one person. Link had never met the King of Hyrule. He knew none of its nobles or military leaders. Instead he witnessed the uglier sides of Hyrule amongst the heart of the land, in its people, and found it went far beyond the monsters spawned by Ganondorf. While the vitriol between peoples had been easier to dismiss with a larger threat looming above them all, it always lingered, like a bitter after taste. If nothing else, the Shadow Temple stood as an unwavering testament to the hidden darkness in Hyrule’s Royal Family. It was the nightmares uncovered in those rotted tunnels that haunted Link most.

He wished Ganondorf hadn’t spoken. He couldn’t easily dismiss his words knowing the harrowing truths found in that dark temple. The Royal Family and those that served them were by no means clean, and it seemed their festered darkness had long extended beyond the confines of their chthonic grave.

_“If you ask my sisters and daughters, King Nohansen Hyrule has as much, if not more, to answer for than I!”_

Link glared at the dirt floor, thinking of the Great Deku Tree, of the fear and sickness that spread from Ganondorf’s influence, infecting his home forest and thrusting him into destiny. Ganondorf deserved _everything_ he’d earned…but that didn’t necessarily mean his claim was wrong. Link felt an angry urge to discount it, but couldn’t be sure if it came from a place of fairness or personal dislike.

It all weighted uncomfortably on his heart. Link felt himself slipping, but against what, he wasn’t sure. A sense of irritated disappointment dug into his brain, carrying the chastising voice of his absent fairy companion. He couldn’t let Ganon’s befouling influence worm its way in and make him doubt all he’d done to save Hyrule. Honestly, the man didn’t even deserve half a consideration given all he’d subjected him to. Link felt perfectly within his rights to ignore any grievances the man had and tell him to shove it up his ass. All he had to do was wait for Zelda to come and then she could clear up his doubts. She’d done it as Sheik, she could do it again as the rightful Princess she was always meant to be.

In the meantime, he supposed, it wouldn’t hurt to ask Ganondorf a few questions.

Embittered by hate or not, at one point he was a King, and he undoubtedly knew more about the inner-workings of the Gerudo and Hyrule than himself. Nabooru and Zelda could always clear up the inevitable inconsistencies later.

***

It was sometime later that Ganondorf returned, his mood still cold and standoffish. Link didn’t think too much of it, other than to wonder if it meant a greater likelihood of physical abuse. He heaved an internal sigh, resigning himself to yet another unpleasant visit. Regardless of Ganondorf’s mood, he wanted the food he offered, too drained to fight himself over it anymore. The plate was full of protein rich meats and calorie-packed starches, all things his body would burn through while running away from the larger man in his next escape attempt.

Ganondorf sat at his usual place and eyed him coldly, not needing to voice the question between them. Link shuffled closer, glancing warily between him and the plate. The moment he was too close to evade an attack, Ganondorf lashed out, grabbing his face and yanking him forward.

“You should be more grateful.” He growled, fingers digging into his jaw. “I don’t have to feed you so well, you know.”

Link jerked in his grip on instinct, forgetting to stay steady in the initial flash of panic. He tried to keep himself level-headed in response, not wanting to suffer a broken jaw.

“I am grateful.”

“No you’re not.” Ganondorf immediately sneered back. “You’re just like every other Hylian I’ve met. Brash, stupid, and self-entitled.”

Gut reaction made Link wanted to snap back with equal animosity, but he was tired. Tired of enduring the unending malice that seemed to spew relentlessly from Ganondorf. He knew responding with equal violence would accomplish nothing, which was an even more wearisome understanding. In the end, Link only glared dully, waiting for the ire to either temporarily reduce its heat or possibly feed itself into a violent rage. There was little else he could do.

Ganondorf narrowed his eyes, waiting for a reaction. After a minute of nothing, he pushed his face away with a dismissive scoff.

Keeping silent seemed to have the unexpected effect of pacifying his turbulence. Link sat back on his heels and carefully accepted the still-offered food. The air between them was marginally less charged, but Ganondorf was also looking at him like he was a bit of a dumb animal, so maybe he just decided the anger wasn’t worth it.

Unbothered by the man’s opinions, Link dismissed him. Thick tension meandered slowly into a begrudged neutrality. Ganondorf still scowled, but without the deep lines of hostility. The expression shifted into surprise when Link voiced a question.

“Who is the sand goddess at the Spirit Colossus?”

Ganondorf paused, searching the other’s face for insincerity. Link stared back.

“…She is an ancient Goddess, born of the desert winds. Some say she’s an aspect of Din. …The Gerudo have long considered her a tutelary Goddess, much in the same way Hylia is to Hylians.”

There was that name again. Link ignored the ache in his heart.

“What’s her name?”

“Ra’suyehasa, the Burning Serpent. Her patron animal, the cobra, is where we Gerudo derive the symbol of our people.”

A whisper of softness came into his eyes, followed by wistful yearning. Link watched closely, observing the way Ganondorf’s posture eased by a fraction, how his eyes seemed to become more human, shining closer to amber rather than red. His voice remained sterile, cold, but there was undeniable feeling behind the words.

“She stands beyond the haunted wasteland as a symbol to my people, persisting on the edge of existence just as we must do. She is a Goddess of endurance, prudence, and resiliency. They say Ra’suyehasa is the one who grants the Gerudo one male every hundred years, keeping our people on the razor’s edge of existence. She is not a Goddess of mercy or compassion.”

Somber air fell over them like a heavy blanket, but now Link had even more questions, most of which he never planned to voice.

The sharpness to Ganondorf’s character made sense, given the nature of his patron Goddess. Link knew the Gerudo people honed their spirits as much as their scimitars, but not in the same sense as pious Hylian priests he’d occasionally seen at the Temple of Time. The Gerudo were warriors through and through, and took nothing for granted.

It still didn’t excuse his behavior, though, or his terrible personality.

“So the hair thing…Is that from her too?”

“What?” Ganondorf shook himself, casting off the far away look in his eyes. “No. No, that just comes from being surrounded by bored women my entire life. Among other things.”

He was alluding to something crude again. Link ignored the wolfish smirk on his face.

“Huh.”

“Do you not have any strange habits from living among the Korkiri? Or is it just your glaring lack of basic knowledge?” He asked blandly.

“…I wouldn’t know if I did. Just about everything I ever did in Hyrule seemed strange to other people, other than kill monsters.” Link was slightly surprised at the bitterness in his own voice, but what he said was true.

“Perhaps if you’d ditched that ridiculous hat…”

“I _liked_ that hat.”

He still couldn’t remember what happened to it. Based on Ganondorf’s comment, he’d probably gotten rid of it, the asshole.

Another silence stretched between them, less contentious, more resigned.

“How long have the Gerudo lived in the desert?”

Ganondorf hummed quietly, eyes pinching in thought.

“Centuries.” He murmured, holding up more food. “We have been a nomadic tribe since before written memory, always living in the peripheral of Hyrule’s green fields.”

“…Why does the Hylian monarchy deny the Gerudo?”

Ganondorf paused, giving Link a slightly critical stare. It wasn’t cold, at this point, mostly confused.

“Why are you asking these questions?”

Link shrugged.

“Just curious.” He muttered.

Ganondorf narrowed his eyes, searching for duplicity before giving up the fight with a sigh. He sounded as weary as Link felt.

“We are denied for whatever reason suits the reigning King at the time. For Nohansen, we posed a threat to Hylian way of life, a disruptor to the peace he had carved after years of civil war.”

Link was very quiet. Somewhere in that history his mother was killed. It was all he knew about her, and he held that inadequate scrap of information close to his heart. At this point, he wanted no one else privilege to that knowledge, especially not Ganondorf.

“None of the other races want or need Hyrule’s green fields.” The Gerudo man continued. “For us, there is no where else to go. We are pinned between a merciless desert, and an even more merciless monarchy.”

The heavy silence that followed swallowed up any more questions. Link still didn’t understand why the Gerudo were denied, but Ganondorf had that far away look in his eyes again, shrouded with a time-worn misery. He didn’t have the heart to ask anymore about the matter. All of it was starting to make him feel uncomfortable again, painting a much more complicated picture than Zelda’s dreams had suggested.

Once the plate was clean Link shifted back against the wall, leaning his head against crumbling stone and closing his eyes. He needed to get out of here. He needed to talk to Zelda. Maybe asking questions had been a bad idea. Ganondorf stood, casting Link a thoughtful frown before exiting the cell.

They exchanged nothing else. Mutual contention had, for the moment, capitulated to an unspoken, mutual exhaustion.

***

It the hours that followed Ganondorf’s leave, Link had been anything but idle.

Sitting alone, the mess of unease in his gut refused to dissipate, even as he turned over all that Ganondorf had told him. His version of events did not line up with his own understanding as smoothly as he thought they would. Instead of inconsistencies, there were gaping holes.

It felt wrong to begrudge the King of the Gerudo while turning a blind eye to the wrong-doings of the Hylian monarchy. Link had seen the things they tried to hide in the bowels of the Shadow temple. It had been just as violent as what he witnessed from his warden. Ganon was a monster, there was no disputing that truth, but that wasn’t the whole story. His foul deeds were exposed to the sun, like bones bleached in the desert, easy to find and easy to condemn. The Royal Family kept their transgressions hidden, cloaked in a way Link hadn’t anticipated until he was knee deep in reanimated corpses and angry poltergeists.

The politics of it all was far outside his comfort zone. He wasn’t the person to go to for justice or fair recompense. He didn’t have the wisdom for it, not like Zelda. He‘d just wanted to leave the forest to see the world and find who killed the Great Deku Tree, which he did. He never anticipated how far his adventures would go after giving Zelda the Korkiri emerald. He never anticipated where he would end up.

Even so, stuck in this pit, Link was slightly heartened to know he didn’t feel regret. He couldn’t. People had needed help, and in the end, he was able to do what needed to be done. If he hadn’t, more would have suffered, and they weren’t suffering so the Gerudo could eat. Hell, for all of Ganondorf’s talk of seeking safety and prosperity for his people, they certainly hadn’t seemed better off when Link met them.

Realization came with a sudden dawning light of anger, rousing him from the confusing mires of doubt. All over again, Link felt duped. The familiar anger he’d long held against the manipulative man began to course back in, welcomed with renewed vigor. The Gerudo were barely a wisp of a people after Ganon’s seven year reign. All of Ganondorf’s talk had amounted to nothing. Taking over Hyrule was never really about _them._

Weighted realization re-rooted Link, washing away the false image of humanity Ganon had tried to craft for himself.

Perhaps Ganondorf had once been a King to his people, but that was a long, long time ago.

When the silver-tongued bastard returned, Link was still burning hot with indignation. The more he’d thought about it, the more angry he’d become. Ganon had some _nerve_ using his own people to justify his crimes, and for making Link question, even for a second, that maybe he’d used his sword against the wrong foe.

“You murdered the Great Deku Tree.”

Ganondorf paused as he lowered into the chair, plate of food balanced on one hand. He stared at Link and immediately noticed the hostility coiled throughout his bound form, his previously relaxed expression schooling into something guarded.

“I hastened the death of an old, dying spirit for my own gain, yes.”

His replied incensed the bound hero, who hadn’t moved an inch from the wall.

“You _murdered_ the Great Deku Tree, tried to starve the Gorons to death, and sought to kill the Zora’s guardian spirit.”

“What are you getting at, boy? I will not pretend to regret what had to be done for my people.”

“Oh quit posturing, you didn’t do all of that for your people _,_ you did it for yourself.”

The neutrality in Ganondorf’s face twisted into a dark scowl, eye’s flashing red. He spoke with the slowness of an unmistakable threat.

“Choose your next words carefully.”

Link was unafraid, standing up and moving into a more agile, defensive position. He was definitely going to get hit for this. Ganondorf took note, standing as well. The air between them began to shift, agitated and careening toward a boiling point.

“Your excuses are pathetic. _Everyone_ suffered under your rule—the Gerudo included—because you only ever cared about yourself. You pretend to be a King but you _abandoned_ your own people for a _selfish_ pursuit of power!”

The tension buckled under Ganondorf’s explosive rage. He threw the food to the floor, shattering the plate upon impact. There was nothing but raw violence in his eyes as he lashed out, grabbing Link by the throat and throwing him on top of the ruined mess. Dirt, food, and broken ceramic cut into his chest. Before he could roll away, a massive boot pressed down on his head, further smearing his face into the dirt.

“ _Eat_ , dog.”

Link grit his teeth, trying to unbalance the larger man to no avail. After a moment of struggling, Ganondorf leaned into him, speaking in a low hiss.

“You think you understand my motivations? You think just because I gave you the _barest_ lesson in your ancestor’s crimes, you’re fit to pass judgment?”

He pressed harder, ice cold hate dripping from each word. Link strained uselessly against him. Ganondorf’s eyes flashed at the scars that stretched over his pale back, the memory of delivering them feeding an ever-appetent maw of vengeance. In a fiery instant, he wanted to hurt him all over again, to cut him down in a way that might convey a _fraction_ of the pain he’d dare stirred.

“You should refrain from thinking for yourself, Link, we both know that’s not your strong suit.”

Using his foot, he shoved the hero’s face into the worst of the mess. Food and dirt mashed into his cheek.

“I said _eat._ ”

He pressed down harder and harder until he earned a choked grunt of pain. Link was clenching his fists so tightly a tiny thread of blood seeped between his whitened knuckles. Ganon refused to let up on the pressure, about to break his jaw before the hero finally relented.

Fury and humiliation burned across the younger’s face as he ate the rice off the floor. Ganondorf hadn’t expected the boy to capitulate, but the sight of it writhed in his chest, soothing some of his anger.

“You know _nothing_ of the Gerudo.” He hissed. “You know _nothing_ at all. You’re little more than an ignorant tool, blindly licking whatever hand feeds you and _wasting_ your loyalties on friends who don’t care to see you _rot_.”

Link was shaking with rage at this point, pinned like a desert viper, still lashing furiously for escape.

“How pathetic and predictable that even knowing the truth, you still cast me as some great evil and align with the Kingdom of Hyrule.”

“The King of Hyrule didn’t poison my home!” Link forced out, gritting his teeth when the pressure on his head increased.

“But he did to mine!” Ganondorf roared. “Was I supposed to watch my sisters and daughters waste away quietly? How dare you remain so self-righteous, heedless to the struggles of my people because they don’t fit your force-fed narrative!”

“You’re cowering behind their suffering! They were never better off after you took over Hyrule! _You abandoned them for power_!”

A fraying tension inside Ganon snapped. He roared against the younger’s audacity, seeing red. Ganon raised his foot to crush Link’s skull, no longer able to recall why he hadn’t done this the moment they both fell into this hell. Link reacted on instinct, rolling away as soon as the pressure was up and jumping to his feet, spitting out dirt. Ganon’s foot crushed a dent into the floor where his head had been seconds earlier. Link staggered against the wall, leveling a weary glare at the beast who spun to face him. His breath coming out in haggard pants. Facing off against Ganon’s barely restrained rage, yet again, and hopelessly alone…Link suddenly felt years older, angry in a way that was worn thin by fatigue.

“You’re a monster, Ganon. I don’t know when it changed, if it ever did, but your hate and anger have poisoned whatever King you used to be.”

Ganondorf reeled as if slapped, and then his eyes glowed like they did amongst the ruins of a crumpled tower so long ago. Link knew he’d crossed several lines, pushed the other to a point of no return, but he didn’t care. Without the Master Sword and with his arms bound, there was only one way this fight could go, and he decided then and there that he was fine with it. He’d get out of this prison one way or another. Some part of him knew this was always how it had to be. Ganon could howl alone in a vacuum of isolation while his body rotted away in silence.

Link flinched back as a sound that wasn’t human devoured all the space in the room, swallowing his final thoughts. He pressed against the wall, waiting for the inevitable. A massive shadow loomed, exuding an oppressive air. Link squeezed his eyes shut as he felt it rear back, not wanting to watch and feeling like a coward in the end.

With an almighty crack, a fist twice the size of a normal man smashed into the stone beside his head. Broken shards of rock flew away, cutting into his face. He couldn’t quite process that he wasn’t dead at first, eyes snapping open and staring stupidly at a monstrously deformed arm two inches from his nose.

He could feel the hot, furious breath of a beast against his cheek, saw a clawed hand twitch for his face out of the corner of his eye. Ganon desperately wanted to kill him, but held himself back. Link mustered the courage to look up, witnessing the man before him wrestle with something that moved like a pit of serpents under his skin. His eyes were squeezed shut. He was so close Link could see the individual beads of perspiration as he fought off whatever monster was trying to get out.

A strange, static space was held taunt between them, one that teetered on the edge of multiple deaths. It was, without a doubt, one of the most terrifying things he’d ever experienced.

The clawed hand that was itching to tear his face off suddenly lashed out and buried itself wrist deep into the wall on the other side of his head. Link flinched, the same adrenaline coursing through him as whenever he walked over a bottomless pit in flying boots. Ganon exhaled low and heavy through animal teeth, bared fangs glinting in the torchlight. When he opened his eyes, they were blood red, and filled with an otherworldly malice.

“Do not,” He ground out, voice devoured by something inhuman. “…presume…to _know me._ ”

The charged air held for a moment that felt entirely too long. Link was waiting for the red in his eyes to bleed into a glowing white, for horns and tusks to erupt from undulating skin, gouging him to death.

Contrary to his expectations, however, Ganon did not kill him.

In the time between one second and the next, the murderous spark fled, and so did Ganon. Moving faster than he should have been physically able, he left the cell, slamming the door shut behind him so hard it broke off its hinges and hung at an angle. He didn’t even seem to notice.

He left the dungeon, managing the shut the heavier, iron door without breaking it, and leaving Link in stupefied silence.

For a long moment, the trembling hero struggled to breathe.

Ganondorf hadn’t killed him.

He was still alive.

…Still stuck in this pit.

Link realized his chest was heaving without control, his legs turned to jelly. He sank to the floor, staring wide-eyed at the ruined cell and wishing he wasn’t so disappointed by Ganon’s mercy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One step forward three steps back, that's the way we do here.


	10. Chapter 10

It was just a temporary insanity, Link reasoned.

The torch was still lit, flickering as it always did and casting a dingy light around the broken cell. Link pushed himself into a kneeling position, feeling at the manacles behind him.

A temporary insanity, induced by an insane situation, Link further rationalized.

It was perfectly reasonable he would welcome death when it seemed so immanent. He wasn’t _actively_ suicidal.

A voice that sounded like Navi was arguing, but he pushed it away, not even tuning in to what it might be saying. Instead his subconscious left a telling flip in his gut, which he also ignored.

Link glanced back over his shoulder, peering down at his fingers and making sure his wrists were in position.

He would move on with his original escape plan, his _only_ escape plan, and wait patiently for the Sages to retrieve him far away from Ganon’s befouling influence.

A nervous glance flickered up to the twin holes in the wall behind him. Link had always known Ganondorf posed a significant threat, but experiencing it like that had been…harrowing.

He probably shouldn’t have pushed him so far.

Link couldn’t say he regretted anything he’d said. It was the truth, as far as he could tell. Ganondorf seemed determined to hide behind his anger though, and Link didn’t care enough to change his mind. He had an escape plan to work out. He also had no desire to analyze _why_ Ganon stopped himself from killing him. That part made absolutely zero sense.

A temporary insanity on two accounts, then.

With a tinge of chagrin, he noticed how much looser the manacles hung on his wrists, the skin ringed with purple and red bruising. There was no need to wait any longer, especially not when Ganon had been so kind as to leave his cell unlocked.

Link braced himself on his knees. He shifted his shoulders around, feeling down the knuckles of one hand with careful fingers until he found the right joint. Taking a deep, steadying breath, and with his lower thumb pressed against the edge of the manacle, he _pulled_.

Cold metal dug into his skin. His teeth ground together. Link continued to pull past the instinct to stop as pain flared hotter and hotter in his hand. He twisted his wrist to break chaffed skin against the cuff edge, lubricating the impending slide with blood. It didn’t take long. It just hurt like hell.

The intensity of it flared fast until a sickening pop gave way. His mind blanked white with agony for a moment, but he didn’t stop. Link pulled from his shoulder, holding the bloodied manacle with his good hand as he twisted the broken one free. His dislocated thumb nestled itself unnaturally inside his palm, but he could feel his hand sliding out. It was that singular thought which carried him through until finally, _finally_ , it jerked free.

Link gasped and fell forward, his arm hanging limp by his side. A horrible soreness protested the renewed angle to his arm, but he didn’t stop. Any pause would only make it that much more difficult to continue. He turned around and brought both hands to a more manageable position in front of his chest.

Distantly he couldn’t help but marvel at how relieving it was to feel his hands in front of him again, even bloodied as they were. Link ignored the nausea of his dangling thumb, gripping it tight and forcing the joint back into its socket. A choked grunt forced its way out, but already the fiery pain began to die down. There would be some violent bruising and swelling on his hands by the time Ganondorf returned.

With the same mindless intensity that saw him through the first hand, Link focused on his second. It was slightly more difficult due to his new injury, but the greater flexibility of arm movement made up for it. He pushed and pulled and again felt the crunch of bones and the listlessness of a freshly detached joint. Sweat dripped down his face as he strained against the final manacle, using his foot to hold the chain down.

With a final, agonizing heave, Link wrenched his hand free. The momentum of his pull sent him falling on his back, where he immediately curled around the mangled hand and grabbed his thumb. Not thinking, only doing, he shoved the bone back in place. A final, blinding flash of pain passed over, and Link let himself go limp on the cool earthen floor, panting hard and heavy.

Silence and loneliness swallowed his gasps.

Navi was not there to encourage him back up, so he had to do it himself. Link moved his fingers and thumb gingerly, testing their dexterity. They functioned as well as one could hope. He lumbered into a sitting position, rolling his shoulders and looking blearily around the tiny room. It wouldn’t be long until night fall, or whatever constituted as night fall here. Soon the torch would fizzle out, and he’d have to maneuver in darkness.

Link stumbled to his feet, curling his aching hands to his chest. After weeks of confinement, it was surreal to step out of the cell on his own. Something tight lodged itself in his throat as he stumbled outside the cell, feeling brittle and raw. A desperate fierceness clawed at his insides and Link vowed never to return to this pit, no matter what Ganon tried to do. He’d break himself in the fight before getting dragged back down here again.

Link moved gingerly around the cell, feeling an irrational fear that Ganon could hear his footsteps, or perhaps sense his freedom. He needed a weapon, ideally something to bludgeon the larger man in the head with as he made a hasty retreat. Without his lock picks there was no way to get past the iron door, other than for Ganondorf to open it. He looked briefly to the whips, but disregarded them in almost the same instant. Best not to invite their use, should Ganon manage to catch him again.

The torch was bolted to the wall, and nothing could be pried from the broken cell door. His only option was using the heavy iron door itself, utilizing the element of surprise to hopefully get past Ganon. Everything about it was risky and Link hated the plan, but he didn’t know what else to do.

After that, all he could do was sit by the door and wait.

Link hated waiting.

***

Sleep came as easily as it ever had since waking up with a too-big body in a too-small world, which is to say, not at all. When the torch dimmed, the count down began. Link would rest half-conscious, in measured doses, always listening for the telltale sound of heavy footsteps. If ever there was a time when Ganon might come down with that strange smell on his breath to beat him into near-oblivion, it was tonight. In fact, Link sorely hoped he would. It would be much easier to sneak past him and remain undetected.

Unfortunately, luck had abandoned him as well in this pit. No footsteps could be heard in the long night, which was fraught with paralytic dreams of capture and pain.

After hours of nauseous waiting, the torch finally relit of its own accord. Its warm glow further agitated the swell of anxiousness in Link’s stomach. The next few hours stretched longer than the night had, but Link bore it with a determined hardness. As long as he didn’t think too much about what might happen, it was bearable.

Finally, the descent of heavy footsteps could be heard.

Link jumped up, completely silent, flexing hands that flared hotly. Adrenaline flushed his system, muting the pain. He poised himself in front of the heavy door, sweat dripping down the side of his head as he heard the footsteps come to a stop on the other side. Ganondorf was right there, mere inches away, fiddling with the lock and bearing a plate of food that Link could already smell. Unbelievably, it was apple streusel, one of his favorites. A brief moment of insanity returned, and for an unreal second, he actually felt a little bad for what he was about to do.

The tumbler turned heavy in the lock. Link shook himself, focusing. The door began to open.

Link grabbed the handle, pulled back, and shoved with all of his strength. The iron knocked solidly into Ganondorf’s head, eliciting a loud shout of pain. Barreling through the confusion of the moment, Link forced himself through the door, distantly noting that Ganon had fallen in the surprise attack. Apple streusel spilled all over his chest, ruining the undoubtedly priceless robes he wore.

Their eyes locked in the millisecond it took Link to jumped over him, stunned disbelief freezing Ganondorf in place.

He was going to be so pissed.

Fear blazoned alongside the adrenaline, turning his limbs light as air as he bolted up the stairs and into the hall. Exactly as expected, a furious roar erupted from the bowels of the dungeon. Ganon bellowed Link’s name, and every syllable was underpinned with murder.

“ _Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck!”_ Link hissed, feeling déjà vu as he ran down hall after hall.

The only thought in his mind was _up_. He recognized, somehow, the halls he’d been in previously, and went the opposite direction. The rumbling sound of a beast in pursuit seemed to come from everywhere. Link ran at a dead sprint, heart pounding in his throat. Despite the terror of the situation, he couldn’t ignore a wild giddiness that began to flow in erratic spurts. It was a special kind of madness he often felt in the thrill of boss fights. Something about running from certain death, after skirting it so recently, made him feel more alive than he had in _months_.

Another roar erupted somewhere far behind him, distant enough to feed his panic-induced delirium. Link dared to feel heartened, flirting with the notion of victory despite its prematurity. The feeling was only intensified when he stumbled upon stairs.

“Oh thank Farore.” He breathed, taking them three at a time.

They went up and up and up. Link skidded on stone as he rounded each landing, racing up the stairwell. The lightness in his heart threatened to burst, mired with fear that kept him moving on blind instinct. He couldn’t slow down, not for a moment, not until he could get to the roof, find his bearings, and disappear in whatever direction offered the most cover.

Link gasped when an inky black sky was all of a sudden above him, overwhelmed by its spacious immensity.

A dead wind whipped his hair around. The sky held no stars to orient direction. It was as pitch black as his earthen prison below. The only light came from what could best be described as a moon in the sky. It was too large, and gave off an eerie white glow. It reminded Link of the light that would stream into the Chamber of Time, where the pedestal of the Master Sword rested.

The sphere tunneled inward hypnotically, like a passageway, and without reason Link knew it was where he and Ganondorf had fallen into his world. It was the doorway, or maybe a portal, and by all accounts, it still looked open.

Despite the panic devouring him, a great swell of relief managed to flood his chest. After so long of darkness, of all Ganondorf’s poisonous words against his friends, the availing light of that open portal felt like salvation. He wasn’t forgotten. He _wasn’t_ _forgotten_. He was just trapped.

Reality smacked back in as the fortress trembled below his feet. Ganondorf continued to rage somewhere below. Link shook his head vigorously. Perhaps he could still be saved with the help of the Sages, but he probably needed to be far away from Ganondorf for it to work. His gaze fell to the landscape around the fortress, and his previously lightened heart plummeted as quickly as it had come.

There was nothing, _nothing_ , in any direction.

Link felt an astringent dread shrivel his hope.

Where the Gerudo Fortress was butted up against a rock face in Hyrule, here it was an island amidst a desolate wasteland. Grey earth stretched on for miles, occasionally punctuated by the skeleton of a long dead tree. There were no distant mountain ranges, no rivers, forests, or even hills. It was flat and barren, completely and utterly empty.

A bleak horror twisted his insides, heavy and inescapable.

Link gripped his shaking head, struggling to accept the gravity of what such lifelessness meant. The only source of food and water for untold miles around was directly under his feet. The only means for him to _survive_ were here in this fortress, with _Ganondorf_.

There was no telling how long the Sages would take to retrieve him, _why_ they were taking as long as they had. He might not be able to hold out for them on his own, not in an unforgiving environment like this _._ He hadn’t anticipated…he’d thought surely, there was at least some basic cover to scavenge by, _something_ for him to use…but there was _nothing_.

“…Do you see now, Hero? You have nowhere to go.”

Link spun around as the panic exploded, arms raised in immediate defense. He’d taken too long, standing there gaping like an idiot and now it was _hopeless._

Ganondorf stood at the top of the stairwell, but instead of the fury Link expected, or even a vicious smile, he wore a disarmingly empty expression. In fact, he wasn’t even looking at him. Link took a step back, eyes wide. The severity of Ganondorf’s mood swings were difficult to place, making him more terrifying in moments like this.

Regardless of what it meant, it was uncomfortable to see Ganondorf behave in such a way, mirroring his own feelings of hopelessness at the sight of their shared landscape. He didn’t trust it. It was too human. The camaraderie didn’t last long, though. Ganondorf came out of whatever distant fog he was in, looking at Link with a steely coldness.

For a long moment, neither said a word. Link expected him to start throwing attacks, or at least spew some sort of vitriol, but despite all reason, only a resigned scowl deepened the frown on Ganondorf’s face. His levied fury, however, did not lessen in the slightest.

“…Come.” The larger man stepped aside, sweeping a hand to the stairwell. His tone was absolutely glacial. “If you do so willingly, I may lessen your punishment.”

Link slowly shook his head. All things considered, he’d rather chance the wastelands.

“I’m not going back down there.” He declared quietly, clenching his fists. “I broke out twice and I’ll do it again.”

Ganondorf narrowed his eyes, but did nothing for a long moment, glaring as though Link were being a deliberately difficult child. With a critical eye he sized the younger man up. The assuredness in Link’s voice was a force to contend with. His gaze hovered over swollen, purple hands. In spite of the rage, Ganondorf couldn’t help but feel begrudgingly impressed.

“I suppose I shouldn’t doubt your fortitude.” He drawled, stalling for time as he contemplated how to handle the most difficult prisoner he’d ever had the misfortune of dealing with.

Link shifted from foot to foot, waiting for the opportunity to bolt. He didn’t like the spark that slowly grew in the other man’s eyes. It channeled his rage into something focused and mean.

“…Though perhaps,“ Ganondorf smirked cruelly. “I have a solution to your little…behavior problem.”

Ganondorf spoke cloyingly. It made the hair on the back of Link’s neck rise. He didn’t want to be near him anymore. The larger man was poised and ready for an attack, but Link wasn’t that stupid.

In two quick steps, he vaulted over the edge of the roof and landed on a lower platform. Ganondorf cursed and pursued, mere steps behind him. Link ran and dodged attacks as they came, no plan now other than staying the hell away from the dangerous man.

At one point, he was forced into an open doorway, narrowly missing a grab from Ganon’s hands. He ran through the fortress, down another endless hallway and made a sudden turn when he saw Ganondorf coming the other way. This happened a few more times before Link realized he was being herded. A sickening weight dropped in his stomach when he noticed plush red carpet under his feet, the smell of burning hearth wood and incense in the air.

He was back near Ganondorf’s quarters.

Link stopped running, gasping for breath and looking for something, _anything_ , to wield. He knew Ganondorf was behind him somewhere, probably watching him. Frustration bloomed with despair, but he couldn’t give up yet, not when he still had his hands free to fight. Bitterly, furiously, Link hoped to at least land a few bruises on the monstrous bastard before getting re-captured.

He yanked a tapestry pole off the wall, tearing the rich cloth off. The metal was pathetically flimsy. Failing hope dragged his shoulders down, something fragile cracking inside. It almost wasn’t worth it. From around the gloom, a disembodied chuckle echoed his visible sentiments, compelling Link to raise the make-shift weapon.

“You’d have equal chances without it, kid.”

He gripped the pole tighter, looking frantically down the empty passages and backing against a wall. Something heavy was in the air. Link felt the presence of a familiar and foreboding magic. It made his heart jump erratically, the hairs on his arms rising. He had seconds before Ganondorf attacked, less than that maybe. He had no where to go, no where to—

Link caught a glimpse of shadowy hands creeping from the edge of his vision. In the breath of a yell they smothered him, covering his mouth and eyes. He didn’t dare drop the pole, immediately struggling away as the hands pulled him back. White pinpricks pierced his consciousness when his head hit stone. Link swung the pole desperately, blindly, and was unsurprised when a powerful grip stopped it at the crest of the arc. Ganondorf yanked the sad weapon away in one movement, forcing the smaller man further against the wall and wrapping his hands around his neck.

Link thrashed despite the larger weight pinning him, nails scraping down arms the size of tree trunks. Ganondorf squeezed, but not enough to suffocate. An unexpected ring of warmth emanated from under his grip. It reminded Link of the heat from a forge, and the distinct smell of ore suddenly filled his nose. A heavy weight settled atop his shoulders, further dragging as what sounded like a long chain snaked from the collar. A _collar._

Link grabbed and yanked at the seamless metal, unable to choke back a muffled yell of despair, furious and wretched. Ganondorf grabbed his wrists, forcing them against the wall. They stayed like that until Link struggled himself to exhaustion, throwing the last of his desperation into a fight he knew he couldn’t win. When only the sound of his haggard breath filled the hall, Ganondorf leaned down, speaking directly into his ear.

“Are you done, Hero?”

Link growled through the smothering hands, lunging one last time at where he thought the Gerudo man might be. It was useless. The hands engulfing his wrists moved, thumbs pressing viciously at Link’s swollen joints. He bit his tongue, wilting under the pain alighting his hands.

“As admirable as this _second_ escape attempt was, such behavior will not go unpunished.” Ganondorf’s breath was hot in his ear, each word sharpened with a merciless edge. Link tried to pull away weakly, the manipulated shadows holding tight to his skull.

“I’ll admit, you’re more resourceful and determined than I realized. I thought we’d been making progress, but it seems you require more constant attention.”

Link flinched, a low whine leaking out as Ganondorf squeezed his hands in conjunction with his last sentence.

He didn’t want to admit he was scared. He didn’t want to acknowledge the hopelessness clawing at his chest. The weight of what was undoubtedly a magically formed collar around his neck was suffocating. Worse was the drowning sense of futility. What lay beyond his imprisonment was nothing but an empty wasteland, and it would force him to return to the Fortress if his friends couldn’t find him before starvation and thirst did.

Ganondorf must have sensed his mounting despair. The iron grip around his hands relaxed until Link could let his arms fall limp to his sides. Shadowed hands leaked away, allowing him to see the chain that snaked from his collar to Ganondorf’s hip. A heavy flip lurched in Link’s gut. Surely his adversary wouldn’t keep him so close all the time?

Ganondorf forced his face uncomfortably high with a rough grip at his chin. Link met his burning stare with a brashness he barely felt. Despite himself, he didn’t want to relent to the Gerudo man just yet. He didn’t want to give him that satisfaction. Whatever he saw in Link’s face made Ganondorf sneer in apparent disgust. He man-handled Link to walk in front of him via his hair. Link grunted and stumbled forward, one of his arms getting caught and pinned behind his back as Ganon forced him to walk.

Tensioned coalesced around his shoulders. Trying to predict the other’s next move was difficult. It was sometimes like playing with the skull kids back home. Just when you thought you knew their game, they’d turn around and bite you. Ganondorf was methodical, but only when the volatility of his temper was in check. There was little Link could do but accept whatever the man decided to dole out, not sure if he was happy or alarmed that they clearly weren’t returning to the tiny underground dungeon.

Wherever they were going, it was not a pleasant walk. Ganondorf was stony in disposition, and though the pace wasn’t rushed, he clearly took great pleasure in maneuvering Link by his hair. Between them, the chain rattled and clinked. The exotic smell of incense grew denser. Link tried to focus on the turns they took, ignoring his pounding heart.

The Fortress gradually took on an unfamiliar coziness and the unmistakable air of having been lived in. They passed small, comfortable rooms and even a large, vaulted arena. Link didn’t have much time to get anything deeper than a cursory glance. He thought he might have seen books at one point, and maybe a set of spears. Overall, it wasn’t a particularly large layout, and most of it spoke of an almost sterile, curated luxury. Despite the alarm of his own dilemma, he shuddered to think of spending an eternity wandering from room to room. It many ways, it was just as much a prison as his private quarters far below. Albeit a much more comfortable one.

Before long, Ganondorf was pushing open an ornately carved door, and all of Link’s previous thoughts came to a halt.

The lavishness he’d expected in the other rooms had clearly been toned down to make up for _this_. Comfort, in every sense, had been carefully considered when Ganondorf devised his personal chamber. His bed, a centerpiece, was big enough to fit four people. Cloth of the richest Gerudo colors hung in layers across the bed poles and along the ceiling, encapsulating the room with a sense of soft warmth. A doorway in a far wall, lined in glossy white tile, revealed a bathroom that looked to be just as luxurious as the bedroom. Nearby was an armoire with carvings so intricate, Link was sure he’d go cross-eyed if he stared at it too long. A few decorative chests, some topped with pillows, others not, dotted the room. Scimitars and other traditional weapons, all ceremonial looking, decorated the walls with vivid tapestries of the Gerudo desert and the Spirit Colossus. All of it oozed opulence and royalty.

The most curious feature, however, was a desk that faced a heavily curtained window. Ganondorf didn’t strike Link as the type to utilize a workspace such as this, but never-the-less, it was covered in notebooks and papers scrawled full with Gerudo script. There were even a few images on the desk that looked to be a flawless rendition of people’s likenesses. There weren’t many but they were all Gerudo women. Twinrova, Link noticed with a sudden flare of enmity, and—he felt his heart clench in an entirely different manner—Nabooru.

Once Ganondorf allowed Link time to be adequately stunned, he forced him deeper into the room. This brought back the most blazing question of the day, which was _why_ , of all places, was he _here?_

The answer soon revealed itself when he had Link stop before the behemoth of a fireplace. It was set adjacent to the bed, and next to the desk along the wall. The white granite hearth was so long a giant deku baba could lay across it. A healthy fire burned within, and Link suspected magic was at work because there were no signs of extra wood nor tools to tend the flames.

Ganondorf extended one of his arms without explanation. Link tensed when black tendrils manifested around his fingers and dripped to the floor, thick and inky. They snaked to the hearth, quickly adding an unmistakable new feature to the room, one that had Link’s insides turning cold. A low cage encompassed the fireplace, growing out of the granite walls and rooting right before the stone turned into plush carpet. It was a prison even smaller than his previous one, with just enough space to lie down. Link wouldn’t be able to stand. He’d have to crawl to move around.

It was a goddamn kennel.

With a flick of his wrist, Ganondorf detached the chain from his collar and tried pushing him into his new home. The motion broke Link’s numbed horror enough to elicit more struggling. There was no visible door, but there likely wasn’t a need for one, not for a cage constructed by magic.

With an exasperated huff, the larger man kicked the back of Link’s knees, making him fall into the new prison with a mean shove. He went through the bars as if they were smoke, but of course, upon trying to touch them from the inside, they sent a painful shock up his arm.

“You won’t be sneaking out of this by any mundane means.” Ganondorf crossed his arms and looked down upon Link’s prone position, enjoying the fury on his face. “Only I can take you out of this cage, boy.”

Link said nothing, his expression conveying enough. A familiar cruel smile curled Ganondorf’s lip as he slowly lowered into a predatory crouch. His next words left Link feeling hollow, delivered in a low whisper wrought with malice.

“I’ll watch you waste away here in the comfort of my own bed, until you _beg_ for my attentions.”

Link stared at him, unnerved by the madness in his eyes, and the utmost confidence of his words.

“…You’re delusional.”

Ganondorf simply chuckled, rising to a stand with a grandiose sense of finality. Link watched him, wary and cornered. For a brief, marveling moment, the younger man wondered if he was going to escape physical punishment after all. But then a spark of hatred flashed in Ganon’s eyes, and he buried a brutal kick deep into Link’s exposed gut.

The hero nearly vomited, curling over his stomach and gasping for air that wouldn’t come. His ribs _burned_ , and tears pricked at his eyes. Ganondorf said nothing as he left, leaving the door open so Link’s heaving gasps followed him down the long empty hallway.


	11. Chapter 11

Whether it was unintentional irony or because Ganondorf thought himself amusing, it quickly became apparent that he intended to punish Link through starvation and thirst.

The first two days were tense, thick with anger and resentment on both sides. Link struggled to adjust to the other’s regular presence, particularly under the stress of a shrinking stomach and dried throat. Months of near isolation had left him more skittish to movement than he realized, and he had to train himself not to startle every time Ganondorf came into the room. Aside from that, the new cage was largely uneventful. Though he was now confined to some semblance of a living space instead of a buried dungeon, he was wholly ignored.

Link had expected some sort of regular harassment. He was instead left with a bizarre sense of disappointment that this new prison was just as lonely as the first. Ganondorf didn’t even look at him. Hours spent locked inside the human-sized kennel slowly turned into a haze of days, and all the while, not a word was spoken between the two men.

It was a complete opposite to the previously over-attentive treatment. The Gerudo man came and went, occasionally spending long hours writing at his desk, scratching away at paper after paper without a sparing glance. Occasionally he would looking out the window with a distant expression. Meanwhile Link felt himself become subsumed by the surrounding décor. He could have been another pile of pillows instead of a man slowly dying on the hearth.

For his part, Link was equally unresponsive, first by choice and then by consequence. He had no desire to engage with his enemy, not even to beg for food and water. At least not yet. As thirst began to dry his mouth and skin, and as fever set in, he knew the time was fast approaching when desperation and an instinct to survive would make him crack, driving him to behavior unknown in his right mind. Such a thing had happened only once before, early on in his adventures, when he learned the hard way how much more his adult body needed to eat. Navi had taken special care to make sure they never ended up in a situation like that again.

The silence and neglect stretched on.

Link’s reality gradually tunneled to the cold granite he laid upon, and the fire that burned without relief. Often it all felt unreal, like a nightmare he was perpetually waiting to wake up from. He kept expecting to open his eyes and see his tree house, and with each mounting disappointment, the pit in his gut grew ever darker.

By the third day, irritability raged silently. He found himself mad an anyone and everyone for even the slightest, imagined grievance. He wanted _out_ , he wanted to go _home_. Instead he was alone and abandoned, waiting for friends that didn’t seem much bothered by his imprisonment. Link tried not to think about it, tried not to think at all. Dwelling on all the things outside his control inevitably led to a kind of anger that made his eyes burn and his throat feel tight.

The fragility of such a state eventually gave way to fatigue, and then, a smothering fog of confusion was eagerly welcomed to soothe his mind. He kept his back to the rest of the room, sometimes forgetting it was there. After so much despair, it might have been strangely blissful if not for the ever-worsening physical symptoms ailing his body.

A constant gnaw of hunger hollowed his stomach. Though he was at rest, his heart pounded as if he were racing through a temple, deafening in his ears. The fire was hot, too hot, an unrelenting heat on cracked skin that trembled with unpredictable flashes of fever chills. Soon headaches came in waves, each one longer and more terrible than the last. His mouth was so dry it hurt. Cracked and bleeding lips felt made of parchment, too dry to feel the moisture of his exhalations. Sometimes his fingers tingled, and his legs. Link had a feeling that was bad, but he was tired, too tired to remember why.

When the effects of muscular atrophy made movement more painful, he stopped moving altogether, losing count of the days. Throughout it all, the ever-crackling fire easily swallowed huge swaths of time, hovering as he was in a semi-conscious state. Embers flickered with an aching familiarity, like the sunlight that once flittered though the trees of the Lost Woods. Or the falling dead leaves of the Great Deku Tree. He watched the Korkiri dance in the fire, singing music into a forest of flames, yearning to follow along.

Flaky white husks that clung to the edge of devoured logs looked smooth as weathered bone. A soft bed of glowing ash fluttered in tiny updrafts, small pieces drifting up on curling smoke swirls like the dancing sprites of home. All of it was swallowed by the deep, black shadows the fire cast inside its stone cave and across Link’s still body, the fire made all the brighter for the contrast, more terrible for its unyielding heat.

There were no fires in the Korkiri forest. Not like this. He’d never witnessed its dangers or pleasures—most notably of cooking—until his journey beyond the forest boundaries. Link could still remember the day he tasted seared meat as a child in Castle Town. Pork, charred on a stick with a smell so intoxicating it nearly drove him mad. He could almost smell it now, especially when he hovered his tingling fingers too close to the flames, reaching for the images he saw dancing—

_“Hey! Watch out!”_

A dull roaring in his head, which he hadn’t notice before, abruptly climaxed, breaking through the hallucinations with the deafening sound of Navi’s voice. He instantly snatched his burning hand out of the fire, heart pounding with both adrenaline and fever. Wild eyes stared at the consuming flames, too numb and shocked to see how bad the burns were. He barely felt them. He needed food. He needed _water_. More desperately, he listened for Navi’s fading voice, needing to hear her, aching all over again when nothing but the rapid beat of his heart filled his eardrums once more.

More hairline fissures cracked the inside shell of his body, sounding just like the logs as they were eaten by flame. Link hurt in more ways than one, but didn’t have the presence of mind to remember why it was all so terrible. He was just so _tired_.

He wanted to waste away, to disappear from the awful limbo he couldn’t escape, not understanding how he got here, why he _deserved_ this. Hopelessness curled around his heart, withering what little energy he had left. Memories flitted in and out with great swells of emotion, homesickness coming in suffocating waves.

Link grit his teeth, unable to stem the tide. He was so far from the familiar comforts of his own life, isolated and alone in ways he’d never expected. The only thing he had to compare it to was the Shadow Temple, a similar darkness settling heavy over his mind.

With a sudden and unexpected clarity, perhaps driven by a madness still writhing against death, Link recalled the last words spoken to him.

_“I’ll watch you waste away here in the comfort of my own bed, until you beg for my attentions.”_

Like a feral animal fighting against its snare, Link pushed thoughts of Ganondorf away, desperately seeking the fire for its benumbing comfort. With a shaky breath, he dragged his fingers closer to his face, looking down at the ruined skin. They were scorched black, the tips of his three middle fingers glaring with angry open sores flanked by whitened skin. It didn’t hurt as much as he expected. From experience in the Fire Temple, he knew that was definitely a bad thing. Perhaps he’d get an infection and finally die, unless of course—

_“There is no end to this eternity, Hero, not even through death.”_

Ganondorf’s words wormed their way into his mind once more, coming in a terrible din. A raving creature born of wild desperation and pain reared inside himself, completely unrecognizable. It lashed about, scratching and howling for a way out. Link barely contained the frenetic mania, scrabbling at an uncontrollable urge to test Ganondorf’s claim. What did he have to lose now? Surely he was but a day or two from dying of thirst anyways. It would be easy to hasten it with a determined chew at his wrist. Maybe if he stuck his whole hand in the fire, he could pretend he was back in Castle town, eating his first bite of seared meat. It wouldn’t be so bad—

The door opened with a bang that sounded far louder in Link’s ears than it probably was. He startled, musculature aching against the instinctual movement. Everything still felt harried and frantic as he stared at the fire, but he was forgetting why. Fever-laced thoughts had been doused cold as the more fatal smell of food wafted throughout the room. He half turned, chasing the scent.

At first, Link didn’t notice Ganondorf pausing to stare mid-step. It was only when he considered the person attached to the arm carrying the food that Link saw his vaguely disturbed expression. It took another thick moment to realize his burned hand was still stretched toward the fire, clear intent of roasting it.

“It seems I’m not a moment too soon.” The Gerudo muttered, resuming his casual walk to the desk beside the hearth cage and easing into a finely carved chair.

Link didn’t have the presence of mind to notice the insanity of his own actions. The hunger in his sallow face only grew more fervent when he spied the pitcher of cool water brought alongside the food. He could think of nothing else.

Their combined presence hit like a brick wall, triggering a hyper-focused intensity. Steaming grains, fruits, and the _water_ tunneled his vision. All the dehydrated muscles in his abdomen clenched viciously. He forced his petrified bones to move and drag himself closer to the edge of the cage, to the table laden with food.

He barely noticed Ganondorf staring at him, sitting in a relaxed posture with legs resting wide. It was an unconscious understanding that Link knew he’d do whatever the other man wanted at this point. Such was the madness of starvation and thirst, and he had every intention of losing himself to its unrepentant grasp.

Without realizing it, he found himself kneeling and trembling at the farthest edge of the cage. It was as close as he could manage to what he desired, and not nearly close enough. After so long spent silent, it was difficult to form words. His mouth was as dry as the desert Ganondorf hailed from, tongue thick and unwieldy. When finally he managed to speak, the words came out raspy, barely audible.

“ _Please_ …”

Link shifted his eyes to the man who held all the keys, desperation shining nakedly in glassy blue orbs. Ganondorf smiled. Link didn’t care.

“…Water… _please_ …”

For a moment, he was afraid the larger man would deny him. Just the thought nearly sent him into hysterics. All his ragged muscles, tense and coiled despite innumerable jagged aches, were prepared to hurl himself bodily at the cage until it broke or he broke. Perhaps Ganondorf sensed this. Maybe he saw how close to unfettered insanity his younger foe had been pushed to, and was finally satisfied. Link didn’t care about any of it. All he could feel was the blessed agony of relief that nearly drew out a sob when Ganondorf reached through the cage and gently dragged him closer, closer to the food and water.

He was settled between the larger man’s knees, and it felt familiar, unable to stand. Dizziness hit suddenly, likely from the roller coasting euphoria running rampant within. Link sagged against his leg, trembling and oblivious until a massive hand cupped with water was held under his nose.

Without hesitation he grabbed the hand and drank, dipping his tongue into the folds of skin to chase every last drop. His fingers wouldn’t work properly once the water was gone, his mind too distracted by the sudden allayment of bodily desiccation. He couldn’t uncurl his grip from Ganondorf’s hand, looking up with eyes that laid bare his naked desperation. The larger man chuckled, a low sound that jarred with the quiet crackling of flames. Link quickly dismissed it, focusing on the water being poured into the cupped hand. Just as before, he drank deeply, shaking and scratching at brown skin to ask for more. Ganondorf allowed him two more handfuls before cutting him off, to which Link responded with a pained moan.

“If I give you anymore, you’ll just throw it up.” He answered lightly.

He carefully peeled Link’s fingers off his arm, holding his face up with a hand that cradled his chin. Link opened his mouth without prompting when a piece of fruit hovered before his lips, moaning and losing himself to the violent splash of flavor that emblazoned his senses.

“Very good.” Ganondorf murmured, a satisfied smile spreading across his face.

Link didn’t notice, eyes half-lidded at the weight of food on his tongue. He was offered more once he swallowed, and with the same mindless obedience, Link accepted. In a far, far distant part of his mind, dim awareness of his behavior raved in disgust, but any relevant sense of shame had been smothered by an instinct to survive. Ganondorf purred and crooned to him, and Link happily took it all provided there was food along with the pettings.

When the larger man saw fit to cut him off, he didn’t argue, hunger and thirst finally satiated enough to stem the hysteria. By now he felt enormously tired, barely able to keep his eyes open. Ganondorf eased him to a spot on the floor, just aside his chair. Link lay on the soft carpet and thought maybe it was the most comfortable place he’d ever slept. He vaguely heard the sound of a chain jingling, and then an easy weight settled at his neck. Sleep consumed his mind there after, and his body began the long process of recovery.

***

“I had no idea you could beg so prettily, boy.”

Link blushed red, glaring mutinously at the floor. It had taken several feedings, unknown bouts of sleep, and a small dosage of red potion before his presence of mind had been firmly restored, bringing with it all the shame and humiliation previously unfelt. He hadn’t stopped glaring and sulking since he last woke on the floor, collared like a dog to Ganondorf’s hip.

It’d been an uncomfortable moment when he felt himself move to kneel before the Gerudo king, compelled by something dangerously automatic. It could only be reasoned away by the strain of hunger inhibiting his decision making process. Link had tried to stop himself, but it was too late. Ganondorf had long decided he liked this manner of feeding, and refused to take no for an answer.

In the end, Link gave up without much of a fight. He still needed food and water, not quite so desperately as before, but perhaps just desperately enough. He was painfully used to being fed by the man anyways. It seemed almost baseless to argue. 

“…You know I wasn’t in my right mind.”

Ganondorf chuckled, giving Link the last of the fruit. So far, he’d been unable to stomach the more desirable meats and other energy-dense foods, no matter how much his brain yearned for it. Even Link knew the dangers of forcing too much too soon in his condition. For now he’d have to be content with water and still watery fruit. Ganondorf spoke again, this time with a suggestive smirk that Link had learned to associate with him being especially tasteless.

“You know, there are other, more pleasant ways to get you out of your right mind, and see if you still beg so nicely.”

Link leaned back, swallowing his food and staring with a deadpan expression.

“…I don’t know what you’re suggesting but the answer is no.”

Ganondorf grinned, very obviously enjoying himself.

He seemed to be actively entertained by Link’s company when he was rendered dependent on him in some fashion, which irked the young hero to no end. Though he’d take this brutish, bullying version of Ganondorf over the rage monster any day, he still didn’t like it. It was like having to live with Mido, only infinitely worse.

The tension between the two after Link’s second escape attempt had been, by its own nature, eased by time and punishment. Link was still angry, of course, but there was little to fight against that he hadn’t already exhausted himself by. Ganondorf, who had treated him like an invisible bug when he lay dying on the hearth, was now positively warm in comparison. It put Link on edge. Evidence to this point was how Ganondorf allowed Link out of the cage as he recovered. Not that it really mattered. When outside the cage, he was chained to his hip at all times.

Arguably the cage was better.

After the plate was cleaned off, he helped him with some water (in a proper cup now), and stood. Link quickly scooted back, starting the process of pulling himself up by leaning on the desk. His stressed muscles were still struggling to hold his weight. Ganondorf, with an air of royal patronization, offered a hand to help him. Link smacked it away, ignoring his subsequent chuckle.

Once he found his footing, Ganondorf gave an easy flick of the wrist. The chain retracted into some nether-region of magical existence. Link didn’t concern himself with it. The intricacies of magic were often too tedious to worry about, and it’s not like he could run off anyways.

_“You have no where to go.”_

His scowl deepened as he watched Ganondorf mill about the room, hiding his despair in the depths of the expression. He didn’t want to think about that. He didn’t want to face the fact that he didn’t know what to do. Instead, Link watched as Ganondorf riffled through the armoire across the room. He pulled out a pile of folded clothes, a splash of purples and deep reds, and tossed them to the bed.

“Wash up, Hero. I can smell you from across the room. Put that on when you’re finished. Your remaining clothes won’t hold up much longer.”

Link couldn’t exactly argue with that assessment, nor could he pretend he wasn’t immensely grateful to have something else to wear, regardless of the bold color scheme. Wearing nothing but torn breeches had only contributed to his general misery. Still, a bath had been the last thing he expected to receive. The red potion to his fingers and hands had been shocking enough. His brows furrowed deeper as he glanced toward the white-tiled chamber across the room, remaining unmoved. It had to be a trap.

Ganondorf rolled his eyes.

“Kid, this isn’t a favor to you, it’s a favor to me. I’ve known reanimated corpses that smelled better. It’s to the point I can’t sleep. Now _bathe._ ”

Link snorted, the corners of his mouth twisting up without permission. That sounded like a reasonable enough explanation to get him shuffling across the room. He was careful to keep an ever-distrustful watch on Ganondorf, who responded with another long-suffering eye roll. Link’s stare was broken when he chanced a glance at his new surroundings, very suddenly and thoroughly overwhelmed.

The bathroom was enormous, its rectangular bathing basin deep and _layered._ Link wasn’t convinced it didn’t double as a small pool. Beautiful glass bottles of all colors and shapes lined an inset alcove that ran the length of the bath. There was already water in the basin, steaming and clear as refined crystal. Link again suspected magic, and was beginning to wonder if Ganondorf knew how to do anything without it.

Fluffy towels hung on iron bars nearby. Intricate tiles detailed the walls from floor to ceiling, not just white, but a myriad of ocean blues and sandy yellows. Jewel green plant motifs gave off the feel of a desert oasis. Link almost tripped over a heavy rug as he stared up at a giant, sun-shaped mirror fixed to the ceiling, stumbling against a half-latticed wall hiding an elegant looking toilet. All in all, it was the most luxurious place to wash one’s ass he had ever seen.

“Use soap!” Ganondorf barked from beyond the open doorway, startling Link out of his daze to scowl. He was forcibly and uncomfortably reminded of Navi, who often yelled the same thing at him. Or she used to. Either way, the insult irritated the same. Why does everyone assume he wouldn’t? Then he eyed the wall of unlabeled bottles and silently fretted at a previously uncharted problem.

“Bars are in the corner.” Came a drawled response to his unasked question.

Link glanced at the end of the inset alcove, where the bath basin met the wall, and spied a covered stone bowl that must contain what he was looking for. With that issue resolved, now all he had to do was strip naked while his greatest adversary was within shouting distance. Apart from Malon grabbing his ass that one time, it was the most uncomfortable thing he’d ever faced. It didn’t help that Ganondorf kept… _suggesting_ things, now and then, just to be an ass. Things that made him feel as nervous and confused as he did around Malon.

Link further deepened his scowl and decided to stop thinking about it. All he had to do was take a bath. It wasn’t complicated, and for the Goddess sake, he needed one. He couldn’t help his nearby company anymore than he could help his overall situation.

Wearing anger like a shield, Link kicked off his threadbare trousers. He didn’t waste time hovering naked in the vast, empty bathroom air, quickly and quietly slipping into the water. He expected it to burn, wanted it to burn, but the magic that heated it was well worked and Link couldn’t resist melting as the water warmed every part of his aching body, soothing away his previous anxieties.

He had never taken such a luxurious bath. Or maybe he’d just gone too long without any semblance of comfort. Regardless, his stubborn anger didn’t hold out long, melting into the water with a quiet groan as he sunk down to his nose.

It was tempting, very tempting, to drift off and lose time in the water, but the chilling thought of Ganondorf coming in to drag him out was plenty to keep such fantasies at bay. Link swam to the far corner, glancing briefly at the empty doorway before plucking a snow-white oval of soap from the bowl. It lathered quickly, and smelled twice as intoxicating, reminding him, unsurprisingly, of the Gerudo women he’d once fought. The intensity of the perfume would stick to his skin for weeks, but maybe that was better than reanimated corpse.

Link scratched away a full-body layer of dirt, wasting no chances and thoroughly cleaning himself, not sure if he’d get this luxury again. His scalp tingled with the thick lather, soap dripping down his face. Link worked out all the grime that had stuck to his locks, happily submerging himself twice to get all the suds out. It was a pity when he resurfaced for the final time, knowing he couldn’t stretch his luck much longer. With everything scrubbed clean, Link reluctantly pulled himself out, quickly grabbing a towel as chill air nipped his skin.

Now came the unsavory part of dressing in whatever Ganondorf had seen fit to pick out for him. Link hadn’t failed to notice the distinct lack of green in the folded pile. As cool air ghosted warm bath water from his skin, he let a familiar hardness encase his heart. He couldn’t afford to forget whose preponderance he resided under.

Link threw the clothing onto a vanity table, picking through the cloth until he could find pants. As expected, they were of thin material in the billowing, Gerudo style, deep purple like he’d seen the guards wear. Unlike theirs, however, these pants came to a stop just below his knees. The waist was further trimmed with elaborate gold embroidery, hanging much lower on his hips than he was accustomed to. There were no shoes, nothing functional at least, which further soured his mood. He didn’t bother considering the purple satin slippers. They were completely pointless.

The shirt, he soon discovered, was hardly a shirt at all. Link was beginning to realize Ganondorf hadn’t _actually_ done him a favor by giving him fresh clothing. It was just scraps of fabric that amounted to about as much as his ruined trousers.

Link wanted to scream as he held up an open, sleeveless, _midriff vest_.

“What is the point of this?” He exploded angrily, spinning around to see the person of his ire come into the bathroom, immediately crowding it. The hairs on the back of his neck rose in response to the threat of his presence.

Ganondorf was looking at Link with pure bedevilment, crossing his arms and looming over his shorter stature.

“They’re clothes, Link. Civilized humans wear them.”

“This is not clothing,” Link hissed, shaking the vest at him. “This is a saddle cloth with holes!”

Ganondorf’s grin widened, an amused laugh escaping out. He gently, but firmly put his hands on Link’s shoulders, forcing him to turn around and face the vanity mirror. Link was immediately struck by how much smaller he was compared to Ganondorf. It was obnoxious, and completely intentional.

“If you don’t like it, you can always remain shirtless.”

Link glared daggers at him, shrugging his hands off and taking a step away. He pulled on the stupid vest without another word, blushing when he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror again. Some how the outfit looked even more ridiculous with the deep red vest added to it, no matter how much gold embroidery it had to match the pants. Link’s ears flattened. He tried, in vain, to pull the material down lower.

“It doesn’t stretch, kid.” Ganondorf chuckled.

“Why—Why am I wearing this?” Link demanded, taking several steps back now and continuing to pull the vest every which way to cover more skin.

“Because I like it.” Ganondorf teased, only a little meanness behind his smirk.

Link gapped in disbelief, wrestling internally to maintain his composure. It allowed Ganondorf a moment to lean over and grab a discarded gold chain from the vanity. Link had wholly ignored the accessory. It tinkled and chimed in the air, a confusing mess of dangling decorative metalwork. Ganondorf ignored Link’s flustered struggling as he grabbed him by the hips, pulling him closer to expertly chain the useless jewelry around his waist. Link shoved him away, about to yell at him again when a fresh towel smacked him in the face.

“Finish drying off.”

It was all nearly too much. Link smashed the towel against his face as a storm of emotions overwhelmed him, gripping the fibers tight enough to whiten his knuckles. Everything he got from the man was a violation of personal space or a command, even simple and mundane ones. He was over-bearing to every degree and it grated at all of his frayed nerves. It was enough to make him wonder if trying to escape the subterranean dungeon had been a mistake after all.

Link rubbed the material over his head with a savage brutality, as if he were trying to scrape off his skin, feeling twisted and knotted up inside. Ganondorf hovered, watching with calculating eyes.

“Do you have nothing else better to do?” Link snapped, losing control of his temper for a brief moment.

Ganondorf quirked a brow.

“Truly, I don’t.”

For a hot-headed moment, Link thought his overwhelm might turn violent, the grip on his temper slipping. He wondered if Ganondorf was banking on that, pushing him in every imaginable way just as Link had done to him in the dungeon. The thought could have enraged him more, but instead it doused his fury cold, reigning his temper before he could completely unravel. Something like shame or guilt had the audacity to leak in. Link directed his glower towards the wall, twisting the towel in his hands until a defeated exhale dragged at his shoulders.

In the end, it was futility that extinguished his anger. He could rage as much as he wanted, but it would amount to nothing. It never had. He was plenty used to being bossed around…by Navi, Zelda, the Goddesses. What was adding one more name to the list?

“You’re exhausting.” Link finally muttered.

The coalescing tension between them lost its friction. Ganondorf blinked in surprise for hovering moment, soon barking out another laugh in genuine amusement.

“Yes, I’ve been told that a time or two.”

He was smiling as though Link had called up a fond memory with his words. It was a disarmingly human behavior. The younger man was suddenly reminded of the sentimental images that dotted his writing desk, wondering if any of the women in those frames had said much of the same thing.

“Come. Your hair must be tamed.”

Link frowned, but knew he didn’t have a choice. He was directed to a wooden bench set before the vanity mirror, two massive hands on his shoulders insisting he sit down. Link stared ahead without seeing. Fingers and a brush began to pull through the damp strands. He tried to pretend he couldn’t feel an undercurrent of despair weighing at every inch of him, barely recognizing his own reflection when faced with it.

Ganondorf maintained an impenetrable air of aloofness, as though everything they were doing was perfectly normal. The gentle tug of the brush pulled from root to tip, setting his ponytail higher than Link would prefer. His bangs refused to be tamed, as usual, and some of the shorter hair along the nape of his neck couldn’t be forced up. Ganondorf left enough hair hanging in front of his ears to plait, tying off all the knots with a thick red cord. Overall, it wasn’t a look too unfamiliar from his usual style.

Link hated it.

Ganondorf finished with a satisfied air, forcibly turning his head from side to side in the mirror they faced.

“Now you look half-way presentable. Perhaps even good enough to pass though my people’s fortress.”

“Funny, your people seemed to have no issue granting me membership in my Korkiri tunic.” Link bit back, enjoying with grim satisfaction the way surprise froze the man behind him.

Ganondorf didn’t move.

For a long, heavy moment, he said nothing at all.

The acute silence of the moment thickened with each second. Link slowly realized he’d blundered into something significant. The air between them became dangerously fragile once more, tense and cold.

“…They granted you membership?”

His voice was stiff with quiet disbelief, slow and dangerous. Link felt his heart rate pick up, reading the tension wrought throughout Ganondorf’s shoulders in the mirror. His hands hovered too close to his face. Link was again struck by how much smaller he was than him, and this time it was harrowing.

“…Yes.” He answered carefully.

“…So you think yourself knowledgeable of our ways, do you?”

“I didn’t say that. …I just think you’re making me wear this for your own amusement. It has nothing to do with your people.”

After he said it, he realized it was a criticism dangerously close to the one levied at him in the dungeon. Link could have kicked himself for being so stupid, remembering the hair-raising fear of monstrous arms crushing stone.

Ganondorf hummed lowly, controlled like a serpent before a deadly strike. Link tensed further when his hands slid up and squeezed around his neck, fingers winding over and around the collar to reach the pliable skin underneath.

“I suppose you’re not wrong, Hero.”

He squeezed just a little tighter, seeming to wrestle with himself. Link held very still, hands clenched into tight fists at his knees. Whatever darkness swirled inside the tainted monster behind him, it seemed to gradually calm its own fury, evidenced by the twitching relax of fingers.

“…You insist on testing me, boy.” Ganondorf murmured, more to himself.

With a huff, Ganondorf turned and yanked Link along, no longer bothering to be gentle. He stumbled after him, expecting to be tossed back in his cramped cage. Instead he was surprised by the turn they took out into the hallway. Link didn’t ask questions. He knew it’d be a waste of breath. Thoughts of the whipping frame crossed his mind nervously, but then Ganondorf took another turn into what looked like a library. It was modest, just big enough for the collection of books it contained, which was admittedly impressive. Or maybe it would have been if Link could read.

Another huge fireplace took up a chunk of the room, a massive chair placed in front of it. Before Ganondorf settled himself in, he called back the chain from the ether, attaching it to an iron ring on the floor beside him. Then he wordlessly picked up a well-used book and began to read, wholly ignoring the other. Link stared at him for a long moment, his gaze slowly drifting to the fire, and wondering, always wondering, why Ganondorf did the things he did.

With a defeated sigh, he sat on the floor and stared once more into flames.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh man oh man things are gonna start progressing now. I hope I manage to set the pace fairly well and keep things believable... Let me know if I don't!! I like constructive criticism! Thanks for all the comments! I'm sorry I don't reply to as many as I should. T_T I try but there's only 24 hours in a day its completely unfair
> 
> Also I tried to draw a bit of Ganondorf's room if anyone is curious. It's on my tumblr. *shrug*


	12. Chapter 12

Ganondorf paged idly through his book, ignoring the stone-still figure sitting before the fire and trying to pretend nothing had changed.

The fortress was quiet in a way that made the truth of its façade deafening. There were neither cackles of laugher down the halls nor the ever-constant chattering of his sisters. He could hear no pangs of metal as warriors spared outside with their scimitars. Even the air was painfully wrong. No blazing heat tried to pierce the windows, no warm dryness caressed his skin with desert winds. Everything felt stale, forgotten. Despite the careful crafting of his surroundings, he could not hide how devoid of life this wasteland was.

Aside from himself and the hero, of course.

He glanced at him over the edge of his book, considering the small warrior within the privacy of his mind. He was fiercely adept, there was no doubt about that. Their time together had made it abundantly clear why the Goddesses chose him to bear the Triforce of Courage. Unbidden, Ganondorf recalled their last confrontation, the charges of hypocrisy Link had levied in the buried dungeon, wielding nothing but a steely glare and undaunted resolve.

Few people had ever possessed the nerve to call him out, and even fewer managed to live through it.

Ganondorf flicked a page over with a touch more aggression than necessary, trying not to visibly simmer. Nabooru would have called it pouting.

He did not like what Link had accused him of in the miserable dungeon. He liked even less that what the hero said was true. Ganondorf hadn’t been able to hear it without seeing red. His temper, his hubris, had nearly cost him the Triforce of Courage.

He still wasn’t sure what managed to stay his hand. Perhaps it’d been the novelty of the source. Perhaps it was the unapologetic exhaustion in Link’s blue eyes. He’d spoken the truth, unrepentantly, and was prepared for the consequences. It was a bearing worthy of honor, not death.

He couldn’t decide if the kid was brave, stupid, or suicidal.

Probably all three.

He was worn thin now, particularly after his most recent punishment. Ganondorf wondered if perhaps he’d been a little harsh, but it had taken significant time to calm himself down after the brat’s most recent escape. The fact that he’d managed to get out twice was absolutely galling.

Regardless, there was still a hardness to his posture. Link was yet unbroken. Even chained and forced into foreign garb, a blatant sign of control, he held himself with a steely fortitude that seemed to come naturally. It wasn’t the brawn of other Hylian knights Ganondorf had the displeasure of encountering. Where they were puffed full of bravado and pomp, this kid wore his mettle quietly, unimposingly. He could be easily overlooked, and indeed, Ganondorf _had_ overlooked him on more than one occasion.

It’d nearly cost him his prisoner twice. Despite how carefully he’d considered the younger’s bindings, Link had broken free yet again. Where he thought the Hero had been subdued, he was just biding his time. Link was no ordinary Hylian, if he could be considered Hylian at all. His strange manner alone laid bare his stranger upbringing.

His people must have sensed this. In addition to his prowess in battle, it must have been these unusual characteristics that enabled him membership into the Tribe. He was Hylian only in appearance.

Ganondorf supposed it was… understandable of them.

Still, the implications left him uncomfortable.

He gazed at the hero, at Link, diffident and resentful. It all felt like a smack in the face, but how could he begrudge him such an honor without insulting his sisters? It was a particularly cruel test of loyalties, made all the worse by the inescapable reality of his curse. Though he had nothing but Link’s word on the matter, the idiot was honest to a fault. He probably couldn’t lie to save his life. Membership was an honor he could only have won through his own merit, not by the aid of others, not even Hyrule’s almighty Goddesses. In accordance with Gerudo law, Ganondorf had to honor the judgment of the Tribe. His sisters would not accept a Hylian so lightly.

But that meant they’d have to follow certain _rules._

Ganondorf didn’t mean to let out a long, haggard sigh, but it escaped without thought, immediately attracting the attention of the problem chained at his feet. Link turned to look at him, brows furrowed. He didn’t ask any questions though, slowly returning his sullen stare to the fire.

Once it was safe, Ganondorf considered him again, narrowing his eyes and trying to figure out where to put him in his plans.

The whole situation muddied where he wanted to stand with him, how committed he was to wheedling away his Triforce piece through duplicity. It could very well be considered stealing from a tribe member, a most heinous infraction for an adult Gerudo. He doubted the boy understood the depths or complexities of his induction. How could he, when he so casually threw it in his face? Ganondorf would have laughed at the thought of telling him, but the wound was still too fresh.

Link would certainly never know the shame of disregarding his induction.

… But Ganondorf would.

He glared at his book, fiddling with an edge of the paper.

He hadn’t thought this much about his Tribe in a long time.

A pitiful, bitter voice inside used jagged teeth to remind him that they weren’t really _his_ anymore. Even after all these years, Ganondorf still couldn’t stomach that pain, focusing instead on more wieldable anger. He would always be Gerudo, even if he couldn’t return home. In the depths of his heart, he knew his own brash foolishness had cost him his birthright. He couldn’t return home, even if he managed to escape this prison before all his sisters were dead. His rights as leader, as King, had been long revoked.

The reality of it left a desolate hollowness, much like the desert in the depths of night. An ancient futility threatened to overwhelm him, but Ganondorf balked in anger, in rebellion. He refused to succumb to the weight of what had to be done and what couldn’t be fought. Aside from his mothers, his tribe knew nothing of the curse that poisoned him and left his options so narrow. It was a burden for him to bear, not his sisters and daughters.

Its inevitability had taken his very home from him, but despite that, he would always be a part of the Gerudo people. The curse couldn’t change the proud blood that ran through his veins.

And that left him with a choice. Regardless of his own feelings on the matter, Link, the very person Hyrule sent to destroy him, was an honorary Gerudo. The mere thought stoked a wounded, offended rage, but Ganondorf sought to temper the reaction. His sisters had seen fit to accept him. If he remained committed to the ways of the Tribe, his decision was already made, and he couldn’t very well manipulate the Hero in good conscience, not even to get his Triforce piece.

The matter wasn’t so straight forward, though. Ganondorf stared into the roaring hearth flame, numb to its warmth. The encumbrance of a constant, desolate affliction stole across his mind like a barren wind.

Time would eventually work to its own devices, ultimately making the choice for him. If Ganondorf didn’t escape on his own, the seal would eventually weaken, caving to the burden of his ever-building malice. Hate and fury would grow like a cancer in his own prison, one day consuming that which contained it… including himself.

By then, the Hyrule he knew, as he ruled it, would be in a different age. There would be a Zelda. There was always a Zelda. The fate of the Hero was unsure, particularly if he stayed alive throughout their long internment. Time being the willy thing that it was, he would not deteriorate here unless Ganon killed him or he killed himself, a detail Link didn’t need to know.

The overwhelming weight of inevitability left Ganondorf feeling exhausted and soured. He sagged minutely in the high-backed seat, rubbing a hand over the coarse hair that lined his jaw. His identity as a Gerudo had an expiration date regardless of his choice on the matter. It always had.

Ganondorf stewed in the long familiar resentment of his situation, an anger that burned hot and howled in rejection to fate. Powerlessness was not a feeling he could well stomach, especially not to something so lofty and ethereal as destiny.

But his feelings on the subject had never mattered. Since the day of his birth, he’d never been able to escape the inevitability of his own madness. Even in trying, he’d succumbed, and now here he was, sealed in a prison a world away from his family.

He could choose to honor the Tribe, or he could relent to that inevitability, to the forces that had long laid a claim over his life.

… He supposed accepting Link as a Gerudo didn’t mean he had to _like_ him.

Perhaps he didn’t necessarily have to give up his goals of acquiring his Triforce piece either. Gaining his fealty would be just as good, perhaps even better. Having Link work alongside him to break free of the sacred realm would dramatically increase his chances for success, slim as the possibility might be. Perhaps he couldn’t intentionally seek to undo the Hero’s Spirit, but if it was persuaded to work in his favor, he wouldn’t have to.

Surely if Nohansen could get his greedy claws into the fool, he could just as well. The Hylian king was an idiot in every measure. Ganondorf ignored the voice of reason that whispered to him quietly, reminding him that it wasn’t Nohansen who’d earned Link’s loyalty, but Zelda, a significantly more imposing figure.

Ganondorf sat straighter in his seat. He needed to better understand why Link fought for the Princess. He couldn’t begin to sway him to his cause until he grasped his deeper motivations. They couldn’t be too complicated. It seemed one childhood conversation was all it took for Zelda to convince Link to fight for her. With enough time, Ganondorf felt confident he could sway him to his own cause.

He couldn’t entirely dismiss a thread of unease with such a plan, however. Their last attempt at some semblance of understanding was… not encouraging. Link had proven himself as dauntless and belligerent in matters of politics as he was in battle, a quality that would have gotten him laughed out of Hylian court, but certainly not among the Gerudo. Ganondorf would need to exercise a significant amount of control not to lose his temper, lest he kill the boy and lose his Triforce piece.

The hero continued staring at the fire as though willing it to consume him, silent as always. Link was unafraid of pain, perhaps even death. That much was made clear when he walked in on him about to cook his own hand.

Ganondorf couldn’t help rolling his eyes a bit.

Using conventional methods to break through his sensibilities might not go as smoothly as he wanted. He knew the secret lied in places other than his role as a hero. Sheik hadn’t relayed much in the way of useful information (and now he knew _why,_ considering he’d been _Zelda the_ _entire time_ ), but from what he did know, the kid lacked a significant amount of practical experience. It was clear he’d never had a lot of interpersonal relationships, which could work in Ganondorf’s favor.

There were a variety of means to sway a pawn, some he’d already been working toward. While it was grossly negligent to underestimate him as an adversary, it was only foolish to forget he was still a mortal man. Under his weighty, destined title, the Hero may yet have weaknesses as ordinary as any other.

In any case, Link was his only tangible project at this point, the only source of distraction from a millennia of idleness that stretched on into the void. In the end, he just needed to work Link into a more malleable state. Then once the Princess returned the Master Sword to its pedestal, the barriers to Link’s heart— and therefore the Triforce— would be at their most vulnerable.

Ganondorf gazed at the traditional Gerudo garb that adorned his stubborn companion. Red and purple were a much more attractive set of colors on him than green.

Link moved, almost imperceptibly, head turning slightly to Ganondorf’s side. Perhaps he felt the weight of his stare, or he caught it from the corner of his eye. The book in Ganondorf’s hand was no longer raised, now resting open on his lap. He continued to stare unapologetically until Link completed the turn of his head to look back at him, equally unflinching.

He said not a word, letting the silence speak in his place. Ganondorf pondered the many things, small details and habits, which collectively betrayed his unusual upbringing.

_“Just about everything I ever did in Hyrule seemed strange to other people…”_

Link raised a brow as Ganondorf continued to stare, but still said nothing. It was then that the Gerudo king noticed his paleness of complexion and the fatigue in his eyes. Nothing serious, but telling enough.

“You need more food. Come.” 

Something hard flashed in Link’s eyes. Pride and resentment, Ganondorf was sure. Nevertheless, he stood without argument, more swiftly than his countenance would have suggested him able. Ganondorf followed suit and left the book on a table, untethering his chain and leading them both to the kitchens.

When he ruled the Gerudo fortress, the dining hall of old had been a massive congregation of constant activity. An enormous pot was always bubbling with stew, meats of all varieties roasting around the fire at its base. Brick ovens were hot with bread even into the night, the smells wafting down every hallway and corridor. Somiru, the head of the kitchens since he was a small boy, always snuck him extra portions of meat and loudly took credit for his size once puberty hit.

The kitchen here paled in comparison to his memory, and most sorely missed was Somiru. Cooking had never been high on his list of skills to learn. For better or worse, magic had to play an intrinsic role in this world anyways. The soil here was as fertile as the burning sands of his homeland.

Link stood quietly aside while Ganondorf performed the necessary steps to transfigure lifeless grey dirt into nutrient dense-edibles. He then altered and manipulated the resulting concoction to simulate a familiar food. It was more like alchemy than cooking. He happened to catch Link’s expression as he worked, an amusing mixture of curiosity and disgust.

“… Are we eating dirt?”

Ganondorf snorted, ever impressed by his eloquence.

“Effectively, yes. You’re lucky I’m an accomplished enough mage to make it both qualitative _and_ palatable dirt.”

Link didn’t respond as he accepted the bowl of steaming broth, giving it a dubious stare. When it occurred to the younger man that he was indeed holding his own bowl, he glanced at Ganondorf with measured confusion. It wasn’t a great mystery why.

“Would you prefer I continue spoonfeeding you?”

It was too easy to goad him. He scowled and turned away, sipping at the broth with a frown etched firmly in place. Ganondorf grinned. Link could posture all he wanted. The Gerudo King would not soon forget the way he looked after five days without food and water, so beseechingly needy and open, so very different from how he behaved ‘in his right mind’, as he put it.

Wordlessly, Ganondorf encouraged him to sit at the long wooden table placed in the middle of the room. He sat as far away as the chain would allow. Ganondorf leaned back against the wooden edge to sip at his own draught. It wasn’t soup, but a thick heady drink that eased the mundane passage of time. Perhaps one day he’d use it to get Link out of his right mind again.

It didn’t take the boy long to finish his food, a healthy rosiness restored to his cheeks. The fatigue from earlier had grown, strengthened by the meal. He needed to rest, and nothing more could be accomplished this night anyway. All things considered, it’d been a surprisingly pleasant evening, though the Hero would likely disagree.

They returned to Ganondorf’s bedchambers without fanfare. Link’s increasing lassitude dragged in every step. He didn’t argue or protest when led to the cage on the hearth, sinking onto the warmed marble with an air of weary compliance. Somehow, he didn’t seem nearly as uncomfortable sleeping on the hard stone as Ganondorf would have expected. Perhaps he had too much experience resting in suboptimal places to be bothered anymore. More incredibly, Ganondorf suspected he was asleep before he himself could change into more comfortable sleepwear.

A deep sigh rumbled through Ganondorf’s chest as he reclined back in the bed, still casually watching the sleeping figure. It was hard to know where to go from here. Goading Link was entertaining enough, but the boy would eventually snap back with an unexpected bite, eliciting his full ire. Naboroou always told him his temper was allowed too long a leash. He refused to tolerate insolence from a naïve fool, though.

Of course, he _knew_ a way to get under Link’s skin. He knew exactly where the Hero was most inexperienced and where his weaknesses as a mortal man might lie. Link hadn’t seemed particularly receptive to his advances, but Ganondorf had the sneaking suspicion he genuinely didn’t understand them for what they were. Or perhaps he hadn’t taken them seriously. Perhaps he needed to be a bit more heavy handed.

Ganondorf shifted on the bed, frowning. Something about engaging with the Hero in such a way felt more dangerous than it had before. He couldn’t put a finger on why exactly, but the trepidation felt like a silent warning. Trailing his gaze over the exposed dips and curves of Link’s sleeping form, Ganondorf scoffed.

The fool hadn’t even kissed anyone. It was as funny as it was sad.

Now Ganondorf glared, feeling annoyed with himself.

Link posed no threat.

If anything, his lack of experience might make things easier. Link’s naïvety would make him unsuspecting of the real danger until he was too wrapped around Ganondorf’s finger to see it. Even better, such an engagement would certainly fall within the confines of Tribal code, as taking partners was an expected Gerudo custom, especially for the King.

In this way, he would have full access and rein over all that encompassed the Hero, including his Triforce piece.

It was a foolproof plan. 

Ganondorf easily dismissed any lingering, misplaced trepidation. His expression shifted into a lazy grin as he gazed at the unsuspecting Hero. A slew of wicked ideas danced in his mind. He stretched into a more comfortable position, allowing his hand to travel below the hemline of his pants.

He once more thought of the Hero, and the way he’d begged so prettily.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ya girl got a beta whuuuut??? Huge thanks to NoCashValue5 for helping me make this story better! T__T Seriously. So many thanks.


	13. Chapter 13

Link’s strength returned as the days crawled by, marked by little more than lassitude and languor.

Ganondorf didn’t keep him quite as hungry as he had when locked in the dungeon. He was also allowed to eat without being hand-fed like a dog, which was an improvement. Link was especially thankful for that change.

As a matter of consequence, his freedoms had been both expanded and limited. He was always, always, in Ganondorf’s presence. After two escape attempts, the man was not taking any chances. As obnoxious as such paranoia was, it meant he was therefore taken to places other than the small hearth cage. With his ability to walk returned, they now took most of their meals in the kitchen. Little conversation was exchanged, the air between them too thick and unwieldy. It was both a blessing and a form of isolation.

The Gerudo frequently spent long hours in the library, where Link alternated between staring into the fire and napping. Every other day, he was leashed to a pole in an expansive arena, watching Ganondorf spar with a variety of weapons.

The arena was like nothing Link had ever seen. It was massive, large enough to accommodate two different sparring rings and a variety of other obstacle courses. An ovular track ran around the edge of the room, framed by craggy walls pitted with potential foot-holes. Part of the track ran smooth, while at least half tried to simulate terrain more likely found on Death Mountain, complete with gaping holes deep enough to break a leg. The sparing rings divided the room in half, each one oriented on opposing sides of the room. Between them, a long, heavy rope trailed up to the ceiling, leading to a knot-work of nets and tension lines. It was the sort of room he would have killed for as a child.

Ganondorf most often utilized the sparring ring designed for weapon-use, if the strategically-placed wooden dummies were anything to go by. 

Watching the powerful man beat on a wooden dummy suspiciously close to Link’s own size set the young hero’s teeth on edge. He couldn’t sit idly by while the Gerudo honed and maintained his substantial physique. Even from his limited position, Link knew how to work his body into a sweat equal to his adversary’s. He’d learned a variety of static exercises from the Gerudo warriors, ways to stress the muscles using balance and weight distribution. It was a convenient way to pass time when limited to one space, such as a guard station. Or chained to a pole. Ganondorf had raised a brow when Link started this practice, and then stopped completely to glare hard when he recognized what Link was doing, but he didn’t demand an end to it.

Baths became more regular, though.

The physical exertion was a benediction in what was a suffocating daily routine. His waking moments were spent alternating between four rooms: bedchamber, kitchen, library, and sparring arena. The evenings always ended back in Ganondorf’s room with Link lying bored out of his skull while the other silently scrawled on paper after paper.

It was all so… _domestic_.

He knew he should be grateful. Link knew he shouldn’t complain or dwell on how miserable he was. It certainly wasn’t any worse than the underground dungeon. Maybe it was the illusion of limited freedoms that ate at him so badly. Chained or not, he knew he couldn’t leave the Fortress anymore. It was a truth that rotted in his gut like forgotten meat. Maybe it was the endlessly repetitive routine that had him ready to pull his hair out. Ganondorf, the grandiose figure of his nightmares and tyrannical King of Evil, was surprisingly boring.

Really they were both just… _waiting_. Waiting for the Sages to come, waiting for Zelda to return the Master sword, waiting for the eternity of their sentence to play out. They couldn’t or wouldn’t kill each other, they couldn’t escape on their own… Link couldn’t even escape from _him_ let alone the void they were both trapped in.

The lack of direction gnawed at an endurance already long frayed. Ganondorf wasn’t trying to chip away at his confidence anymore, but that meant he had nothing tangible to fight against. Nothing but himself, which was never a good thing. Link shuddered upon remembering the dark reflection he battled in the Water Temple. Navi had been alarmed when his shadow self tauntingly revealed all the ugly thoughts he carried deep inside, some of which he hadn’t been consciously aware of. Her pity afterwards had been just as unbearable.

Link picked at a loose embroidery string dangling off the edge of his latest excuse for a shirt. Every now and then a stray thread would come loose, and he’d send the tiny wisp floating up to the shadowy bars above his head, where it would burn away silently upon impact. Ganondorf scrawled away on something at the desk beside his lounging posture, focused on whatever it was he did to pass the hours away.

After so long of being on quest after quest, trying to find medallions, stones, or whatever else was asked of him… Link didn’t quite know what to do with so much forced idleness. A restless itch needled him like an untreated burn. He didn’t understand why stillness refused to come, why he couldn’t seem to hold himself more intact while waiting for his friends. He was ashamed that he couldn’t banish the plaguing voices of doubt.

It was fair to admit part of Link's restlessness had to do with the company he kept nowadays. Ganondorf wasn’t exactly a pinnacle of stability or support. The issue was hardly novel to their situation, though. Since stumbling down the broken stairs of the Temple of Time, moments to himself had been long fraught with the struggle to just stop _thinking._ Thinking about Zelda, or his friends, or how to move in his awkward adult body without breaking more things than he fixed.

It was a constant, never ending mental stream of things outside his control, which could only be quieted when chopping through a monster or breaking a puzzle. It’d been a relief when, by the time he got to the shadow temple, and especially after it, he felt a regained sense of control over his mind, finally growing enough _inside_ to match what the _outside_ reflected. Of course, it hadn’t been entirely comforting. His adult self was unfamiliar to the boy he’d been barely six months ago. Link didn’t know what to do about that.

Sheik—Zelda—told him everyone becomes a different person as they age, whether by the crucible of growth or if left to fester in stagnation, everyone changes. It was advice Link still considered more cryptic than useful. That was par for the course with Sheik, though.

Unfortunately, there was never any other option but to accept the differences and move on, chalking it all up to adulthood with an almost apathetic resignation. His situation now was no different.

It was irritating, then, that even in this place there were still things that just… went over his head. In Hyrule, most of his issues had been cultural. People didn’t see the world the same as the Korkiri. They were always rushing and busy, frantic about things they wanted to do, as though time hung like invisible chains around their necks. Most of the people were loud, unaware of their own nature, taking things for granted and panicking at the slightest change. It was strange. The people in Hyrule seemed to hold on to a lot more, too, but Link wasn’t sure if that was cultural or a reflection of a childish mindset.

Then there were… other things. Things the Korkiri _never_ had to deal with.

Luckily, aside from a few highly embarrassing moments, those sorts of things were squashed away under the constant threat of battle and destiny. At least mostly. It’d been a very, very confusing day when he found himself hard while fighting a particularly terrifying monster in the Forest Temple. Luckily that sort of thing didn’t last long, and stopped happening entirely by the time he hit the Water Temple.

Navi had been absolutely no help. She just giggled and said it would work itself out, and Link supposed it did. She always acted very strange whenever he’d woke up in a cave or field to find himself in a hardened state, or worse, in the messy afterglow of that state. She was all fluttery and pulsing and giggling. It reminded him, uncomfortably, of how the Great Fairies acted. He always made sure to hide and do whatever he could to make the strain in his pants go away, only ever touching himself when he could convince Navi to leave for any length of time.

Which had been about once.

Link was not a good liar.

That had been the day Malon flirted with him. She’d laughed in a way that reached between his legs, telling him as much with a wink before smacking his rear.

That had been a good day.

Lost in the memory, a tiny smile lazed across his face despite his melancholy.

His cock suddenly twitched, seeming to recall on its own how Malon's breasts felt whenever she hugged him. It twitched again, and he realized, with absolute horror, that he was getting hard.

The cold granite he lied upon was nothing compared to the iciness that doused his indiscreet thoughts, remembering where he was and who he was with, which was most certainly _not_ Malon and _why was he thinking about this now of all places?_

Link silently screamed, immediately rolling to face the fire and hoping to all the Goddesses that Ganondorf hadn’t noticed anything amiss. Curled over his hips and staring wide-eyed into the flames, Link called up every erection-killing thought in his arsenal.

With aching slowness, the budding warmth leaked away. He didn’t have the courage to sneak a glance at Ganondorf. If the bastard had noticed, he wouldn’t have let it go without some sort of mean taunt anyways.

Link sincerely hoped the Sages would hurry. He might die of embarrassment if he woke up one morning to find his pants ruined from a heated dream. He was fairly certain Ganondorf would never, ever let him live that down.

The sound of a scratching quill continued without pause, gradually relaxing Link’s anxieties. Thoughts of the Sages, of their absence and the possibility that he might be stuck here with the King of Evil for all eternity, never able to have another erection ever again, sucked all the warmth out of the room.

It had been a very long time since they fell out of that empty sky.

He tried to remember how time moved differently here. There was no telling how long it’d been for Zelda and the others since he was dragged into this hell. He hoped, desperately hoped, that they wouldn’t abandon him, and that they’d forgive him for his doubts. He didn’t want to spend the rest of existence chained to Ganondorf’s hip, eating magic dirt and watching him do the same four things over and over again. He might go insane.

A tiny ember popped, skittering outside the fire. Link flicked it back in, sighing a little more heavily than he meant to. The scratching of the quill paused. Link didn’t plan it, but he turned his head up to look at the Gerudo king, meeting eyes that were already trained on him.

“Is this all you planned on doing with your time?” He blurted out.

Ganondorf blinked.

“Am I boring you, Hero?” He asked, an upward tilt to his lips.

Against his better judgment, Link groused back.

“Immensely.”

“I see…” Ganondorf put the quill down and turned, giving Link his full attention, which was not what Link had anticipated. “Would you prefer I place you back in a proper dungeon then? I don’t even have to bring you food. It would be a simple thing to make it manifest without my presence again, to leave you in caged darkness until your mind caved in on itself from isolation. What creature would you become then, I wonder?”

A cold horror mounted in Link with every word that came from the cruel man’s mouth. He had forgotten, just briefly enough in his sour mood, how horrible the man could be. He didn’t doubt Ganondorf would do exactly as he said, provided Link pushed him enough. Maybe without pushing him at all.

He stared at him, unblinking, and slowly turned back to the fire, vowing to keep his mouth shut for the rest of his goddamn life.

But Ganondorf laughed, like it was all a funny joke.

“Relax, Hero, I wouldn’t submit you to such a fate unless you really earned it. Even I’m not that cruel.”

Link begged to differ, wisely remaining silent this time. Ganondorf stared down at him, considering the tension wrought throughout stiffened shoulders. Link scratched absently at the collar around his neck, eyes pinching as he irritated the chafed skin below it. It was clear he detested the bulky restraint, but it served as a necessary reminder to his own obstinance. As long as the hero continued believing someone would come to save him, he couldn’t be allowed too long a leash. For now, it was better to assert who held the lion’s share of power in their shared prison, lest his eventual fealty come with excess autonomy.

After a moment, Ganondorf posed his own question.

“What would you do here, provided I didn’t need to keep you under lock and key?”

Link worked hard to contain his more biting comment to Ganondorf’s question, glowering at him. The way he spoke, as though Link _had_ to be a prisoner, was ridiculous. Keeping him ‘under lock and key' did nothing but satisfy the man’s ego, as far as Link was concerned. He chose to gloss over that part though, breaking his vow of silence because apparently Ganondorf wanted him to be chatty now.

“… I guess I’d keep trying to get out. Forever, if I had to.”

Ganondorf snorted.

“ _That_ sounds like madness. I can’t say I don’t understand the sentiment, though. Why do you think I keep such a strict routine? I know it grates at you, wild creature that you are, but contrary to what you may believe, it’s not supposed to be a form of torture. With regularity comes order, and madness cannot thrive in such a place. … Not for long, at any rate.”

He trailed off, his words growing distant. Link didn’t miss the sudden change in tone, the way he became just slightly despondent, like he was facing an inevitability even he couldn’t resist. Link twisted around to look at him more fully, a new kind of alarm blooming.

“Do you really think we’ll go mad here?”

He wasn’t even sure why he asked. The answer he received was deeply sobering, swallowing all the air in the room

“Yes. Eventually we will.”

Silence thickened painfully between them, viscous and suffocating. Link stared at him, desperately searching for an indication that the other didn’t truly believe that. But the resignation was set so deeply in Ganondorf’s face that he had to drop his gaze. Only callous truth could leave a man like that. Anger and powerlessness roiled in Link’s gut, condensing into a bitter leaded mass that bled hot, unvented misery.

“Why did you drag me down with you?”

Again, he hadn’t meant to voice the question burning inside. It spat out with a mind of its own, full of the pain and despair that felt too heavy to carry anymore. If he was truly honest with himself, the question wasn’t meant for Ganondorf. He figured he knew how the asshole would answer, and hearing it would only incite a fight.

No, Link knew, under a layer of denial, that he was really asking to voice it for the ever-silent Goddesses.

Nevertheless, Ganondorf answered in a subdued manner, and without the sneering response he expected. The silence between them grew and shifted into something different, something harder to place. Link looked up, brows furrowed. Ganondorf was distant once again, like he’d been on the roof of the fortress weeks ago.

“… I don’t know, kid.”

Link didn’t know what to do with that. Ganondorf was showing an uncomfortable degree of humanity again. It didn’t mix well with the righteous anger he held against him. It was hard to lash out at an enemy that already looked defeated. The silence stretched longer, threatened to become stifling.

“… Can I have a pillow?” he finally bit out.

Ganondorf seemed to startle out of his daze, looking vaguely boggled. Link felt a little embarrassed, but at least the man didn’t look like an existential deku scrub anymore. A temperate smile spread across the dunes of his face, teasing, but without the cruelty. Something inside Link stirred curiously at the sight of it.

“And here I thought you were perfectly comfortable sleeping on hard granite.”

The younger man rolled his eyes. Ganondorf stood and plucked a pillow from his own bed, throwing it at his prone form. It was a little awkward to catch lying on his side as he was, and limited by how far he could reach due to the low clearance of the cage, but he managed. It smelled different than the bar soap he used, with something else that could only be the Gerudo man himself. It wasn’t unpleasant.

Link fiddled with the edge of the pillow for a second more before deciding to push his luck.

“Will you raise the ceiling of the cage?”

Ganondorf laughed this time, amused by his audacity.

“I don’t think so, Hero. If you want to be somewhere more comfortable, the only other secure place to put you would be my bed.”

Link burned red at the mere thought, not expecting his question to go in _that_ direction. Ganondorf laughed again, more fully this time, and held open a hand to the oversized mattress as though to invite him in. Link promptly stuffed the pillow under his head and turned away. Ganondorf continued chuckling to himself, and even though it wasn’t full of its usual animosity, Link didn’t like it.

The night wound down without any more incident. It wasn’t until sometime later that Link realized they’d had an entire conversation without wanting to kill each other.

***

Morning dawned without a sunrise.

Link was stirred from bizarre, murky dreams by the increasing heat of the fire. By the time he was fully awake, he’d forgotten them, left only with the sensation of being lost and strangely flustered. He rubbed the heel of his hand against his eyes, shaking the sensations away and stretching out sore kinks. He definitely did _not_ think about how much more comfortable sleeping in a bed would be.

Ganondorf was already up, as usual. Link could hear him meandering in the bathroom, doing whatever it was that he did. He sighed quietly. Already monotony began to settle in with a familiar weight as he thought about the long hours ahead, trying to pretend he believed the Sages might come today.

A warm, spiced scent that Link had learned to associate with Ganondorf became more pronounced as the large man came out of the bathroom. Wrapped in nothing but a towel, the expansive landscape of his body was boldly exposed. Link quickly turned to the fire, resenting the warmth that leaked into his face.

The man did this on purpose. Link had learned early on that Ganondorf was not bothered by nakedness in the slightest. He’d dropped his morning bath towel enough times, heedless to his sore audience, that Link had seen more of his enemy than he’d ever imagined. By now he knew to turn away the moment he smelled that telling soap waft into the room.

When Link turned back around, Ganondorf was dressed in rich layers of fabric emboldened by gold jewelry, all of it tied together at his waist with a vibrant sash. His hair hung long as usual, held out of his face by rows of braids and some sort of gold hairpiece.

It was a very… distinctive look.

Regal comfort, rather than battle practicality, now took precedence. It’d taken some time getting used to seeing Ganondorf in a way that presented him more like a Gerudo King and less like a war-mongering demon monster. Stranger still was how he always looked more put together than Link had ever felt in his life. The whole effect had him feeling significantly more tongue-tied than usual. He tried not to analyze that part too much.

More offensively, Ganondorf’s clothing covered a hell of a lot more skin than Link’s, which the Hero thoroughly resented. The one time he’d pointed this out, the uncouth ass had given him a shit-eating grin and offered to take off a few layers so they’d match. He stopped complaining after that. 

“Ready?”

Link startled, realizing he’d been thinking about Ganondorf so intensely he hadn’t even noticed the man standing right above. His heart started racing a little faster in response to the looming threat, though Ganondorf didn’t _look_ like a threat. Not currently. He held out an open hand through the nebulous bars, one brow cocked askew.

Link shook his head, scattering discombobulating thoughts like leaves in the wind.

Without a word, he took his hand, and they went down for breakfast.

It didn’t take long for the resident mage to whip up something to eat. Link tried not to watch, because he couldn’t stop tasting gray wasteland in his food now that he knew the truth. It almost made him miss existing on the cusp of starvation. Everything tasted better when he was desperate for it.

They took their usual spots at the table, a chain-length distance between them. Ganondorf didn’t force his company anymore than necessary, to which Link was grateful. The wall between them was therefore as stalwart as ever, reinforced by an unabated loneliness. Link generally tried to ignore him, which consequently left him to the festering ache of homesickness instead. He had to believe the Sages would come someday. It was the only thing that helped him stomach the bizarre new reality he was stuck in.

Until then, he ate dirt. Magic dirt, but still dirt, with the last person in Hyrule he wanted to be near.

Ganondorf scrapped the last of his food and sipped slowly at a dark, bitter brew. It tickled at a memory, the familiar scent calling up dry winds and desert sand. Nabooru once offered him a similar drink, perhaps even the same kind. As kind as her intentions had been, the drink tasted absolutely revolting. After she told him— between his coughing and hacking— that it was supposed to impart energy to rise swiftly in the mornings, Navi had insisted he try it again. The little fairy had been as subtle as a dodongo that he try it and _like it_ this time. Nabooru laughed so hard she spat coffee all over her curry.

“… You… are smiling.” Ganondorf broke his thoughts, tone guarded.

The bubble of warmth popped in an instant, bringing back a reality that quickly swallowed the offending smile.

An uncomfortable silence passed between them. Link wasn’t sure what the man wanted him to say. He hadn’t realized he was smiling. They’d had very few conversations that didn’t end in violence. It seemed dicey to try their luck for more.

“… Yes,” Link forced out, feeling like he suddenly had the personality of a rock.

Another strained silence passed. The younger became increasingly uncomfortable, clueless as to what Ganondorf was trying to accomplish. It seemed a little fanciful to suppose he might be equally affected by the depressing silence of their meals, but the man was, contrary to most evidence, still human.

He supposed their usual dour silence couldn’t be any worse.

“Um… Nabooru once gave me a similar drink,” He offered haltingly, feeling stupid again.

“This?” Ganondorf gestured to his near empty mug. Link nodded.

“It smells the same. She said the Gerudo drink it in the morning to rise with the sun.”

“Hm.” The man nodded.

Another silence passed.

“… Did you like it?”

“No. It tasted like warm deku water.”

Ganondorf snorted. Link fiddled with the edge of his plate, speaking before he could talk himself out of it.

“… The curry was pretty good though.”

“She made you curry?”

Link nodded.

“Was it spicy?”

“Very.”

Ganondorf narrowed his eyes.

“… And you liked it?”

Link nodded again, pausing to add a slight amendment.

“It was painful, and I had no idea food could make my face leak so much, but it was very good.”

Ganondorf stared at him for a measured beat and then laughed. It was warm and for the first time, completely without malice. The sound, more pleasant than expected, surprised Link. He thought maybe this is what he sounded like before becoming mad with power. Dressed as he was, he could even picture him as a true Gerudo King.

“I’m impressed.” Ganondorf continued to smile, words genuine. “Most Hylians can barely stomach more than salt.”

“I like food.” Link shrugged.

“Oh, I’m well aware.” His smile quickly took on that teasing curl. “After witnessing your steadfast dedication to a good meal, I don’t doubt that for a second.”

Link pinched his gaze, determined to regret nothing… not even licking food off his enemy’s hand. It was annoying that, even without saying anything, Ganondorf seemed to know what he was thinking. His smile widened, humor taking on a flavor that the younger didn’t know what to do with.

“Quit smirking,” Link muttered, stabbing at his food. “I only did it to help me escape, _which I did_.”

“Mmhm.” Ganondorf didn’t look entirely convinced, which was also annoying.

Link glared at him.

He must have considered him utterly harmless, because Ganondorf just laughed the exchange away, standing to clear empty plates. Pointed teasing aside, it was a fairly quick turn around for yet another successful conversation. Their lack of violence felt like a substantial accomplishment.

Link reflected, with no small degree of wonder, that the weight in his stomach didn’t sit quite so heavy anymore.


	14. Chapter 14

“Here, try using this.”

Ganondorf spoke with a mask of nonchalance, holding out what was unquestionably a weapon. A wooden weapon, but a weapon nonetheless. Link paused from his spot on the sparring room floor, staring at the hewn staff and flicking his eyes up to the man who offered it out to him.

“It’s a weapon,” he pointed out, an entire slew of questions clear as day in the flat statement.

Ganondorf scoffed.

“It’s a stick.”

Link stood slowly, a thread of humor managing to bleed in as he observed his enemy’s dismissive stance. He acted as if Link hadn’t defeated him in deadly combat before.

“I could use it as a weapon, though.”

“If you hit me with this stick, I’ll break your hand.” Ganondorf narrowed his eyes, shoving the staff into the threatened appendage because apparently he wasn’t one to be denied. Humor continued to drag up one corner of Link’s mouth.

“Might be worth it.”

“I’m regretting this already.” Ganondorf rolled his eyes and walked away, leaving Link to his quiet snickering.

Overconfident arrogance aside, a sparring staff was a strange thing for Ganondorf to grant him.

It’d been a very long time since Link was able to wield a weapon against the Gerudo man, long enough now that it fell somewhere in the murky unknown only defined as ‘the past’. The idea of whacking him with the flimsy wood, which really was little more than a stick against someone such as him, felt cumbersome and obtuse.

It was unsettling to hold a weapon in his hands, even one as weak as a staff, and not feel compelled to use it, particularly against Ganondorf. It left him feeling off-kilter, like he was losing his balance. Link gripped the wood more securely, glancing around and noticing the sparring dummy Ganondorf had been so kind as to set up in his vicinity.

He was such a strange man.

Link tried to shrug it off. It would be foolish to reject the apparent generosity, regardless of where it spawned from. Perhaps it had to do with their increasing civility over meals. Sometimes it even bordered on affability. Link spun the staff, getting accustomed to the weight of it and trying to ignore the flip in his stomach. He was not supposed to be getting friendly with Ganondorf, certainly not so much that he’d give him a sparring weapon. It felt like he was doing something wrong, something that betrayed Zelda and his role as the Hero.

But his general health was in a significantly better state than when they were at each other’s throats. Link swung the staff a few times, stilling when he realized he didn’t _want_ to be at the man’s throat, not here, not right now. He didn’t really want to fight him at all, if he could help it.

He just wanted to go home.

Link turned to the wooden dummy and spent the next two hours clubbing it, beating down an entrenched discomfort with every strike.

***

Time melted away as Link worked. He lost connection with it, as he usually did when focused on the full-body coordination required to fight and survive. The wooden dummy wasn’t much of a replacement to the monsters that haunted his nightmares, but it was easy enough to superimpose them. It was harder to keep unwanted thoughts at bay. He needed the thrum of adrenaline to achieve that particular peace of mind.

Link spun in a wide arch, heedless to his surroundings, only to be halted mid-swing by the sound of wood smacking against skin. He startled, jumping back and nearly tripping on the damn chain leash. Ganondorf kept his grip on the staff he’d caught, using it to keep him from falling.

“Enough, Hero. You’re going to work yourself into exhaustion. Drink some water.”

Link panted heavily, struggling for a moment to come back to himself. Ganondorf shoved a cup at him, sloshing liquid over the edge.

“Drink.”

Annoyance with his bossy nature nagged in a more removed way nowadays. Link drank as he was told, because really, he needed to. Ganondorf watched with a critical eye, plastered with just as much sweat as Link.

It was a singular mercy that he seemed to consider physical exertion as effective an outlet as Link did. There was little else to keep Link from spiraling into the hopeless shroud that sometimes clung to his shoulders. He wondered if the other man felt the same.

Ganondorf made a show of removing the chain from the pole, attaching it to his hip. His insistence on the unnecessary binding agitated Link’s mood. He twitched in irritation, but remained silent. The behavior didn’t go unnoticed.

“Something on your mind, Hero?” Ganondorf questioned, pulling him down the hall like a pet on a leash.

“No,” Link groused.

“Mm. You’re not a very good liar, are you?”

Link rolled his eyes and huffed, not in the mood to fight.

“This chain is…wearisome.”

“I thought you liked being other people’s dog?”

Link glared at his back, wondering how bad the consequences would be if he kicked him.

“Don’t look so put out,” Ganondorf chuckled. He didn’t even turn around to look at him. “I might be inclined to remove the leash if you can persuade me.”

“Persuade you?” Link made a face, stepping up to walk beside him. “What do you mean?”

“I mean I don’t plan on making the same mistake thrice.” Ganondorf glanced down at him pointedly. “You’ve proven to be both patient and stubborn, two qualities that make for a terrible prisoner. If you want out this time, you’re going to have to be a bit more proactive.”

Ganondorf glanced down at him again and this time grinned, no, leered. Link’s brow furrowed deeper.

“… You want me to say please?”

“Maybe not in so many words.”

Link narrowed his eyes, his ears pitching back. The other man had a teasing lilt in his voice, one that made his stomach flip and left him feeling a fool.

“You’re making fun of me.”

“Link, I’m always making fun of you,” Ganondorf drawled, rolling his name off his tongue. The flip in his stomach turned into an unsettling flutter. “This time, it’s actually an invitation.”

“… An invitation? … To persuade you?” Gods, he could be more confusing than Sheik sometimes.

“I’m sure you’ll figure it out eventually.”

“I’m good at figuring out puzzles, not people.”

“Consider me your next puzzle, then.”

“You’re certainly maddening enough to be one,” Link muttered.

This caused Ganondorf to stop, an amused and wholly exasperated expression on his face. The teasing air thickened as he leaned closer to Link, who forced himself to hold his ground despite the way his skin buzzed at the proximity.

“You want out of the chains?” Ganondorf said slowly, voice full of something that weighed heavy like a threat, but wasn’t. “Find a way to… _unhinge me_.”

The words, and the way he said them, stirred something in his memory. They recalled an illicit suggestion. With the bludgeoning force of an octorok, Link finally got it.

He froze and blinked at Ganondorf, suddenly very aware of how close he was. Without permission his eyes jumped down to his lips, a blush heating his face at the same time. Ganondorf’s grin widened as it became clear Link was finally picking up on his cleaving hints.

In another time, another life, Link reflected that he’d been in a similar situation with someone else, and in that scenario, it had ended with him in a lake. Now he had nothing but the wall backing up against him.

There was absolutely nothing going on in his brain other than blinding, white panic, which Ganondorf seemed to be thoroughly enjoying. Link felt his voice tangle into a knot, caught tight in his throat like it only did on special occasions. Being so brazenly invited to kiss the man he once put a sword though was definitely one such occasion. It was such a shocking proposal he couldn’t figure out how to react, which was equally alarming itself.

“Um… I, uh…” He glanced down at Ganondorf’s lips again, blush flaming. “That’s— We don’t— Um—“

Ganondorf threw his head back and _laughed_. Link had the immediate urge to kick him again, more powerful than before, and this time he did. Ganondorf didn’t pause his guffawing, only lifting the leg Link had kicked and absently rubbing his shin. Link glared silently, tense and still, eyes blazing wide.

“You aren’t serious,” Link repeated, just as he had weeks ago in the subterranean dungeon, but now not nearly so sure.

Ganondorf didn’t answer him again, and Link realized he’d done as much in the dungeon as well. He’d deflected last time, and now, he stared at him with a brow raised high, as if daring Link to close the space between them there and now.

“You _are_ serious,” Link breathed, feeling lightheaded. “Wha— _why_? I’m your _ene—_!”

Ganondorf turned and yanked on the chain, causing Link to stumble forward with all the grace of a moblin dancing ballet.

“Come on, Hero, before you hurt yourself.”

Link spluttered indignantly, balling his hands into fists. The blush well mounted across his face refused to leave. Ganondorf had interrupted and dismissed him, dragging him down the rest of the hall as one would an overworked child. Link burned in anger and embarrassment— confused and not entirely sure why. Aside from the obvious, of course.

As if he’d ever do _that_ with the insufferable man.

The more Link thought about it, the more angry he became. It was a galling suggestion, offensive even, and of course it could only ever come from someone as arrogant and selfish as him. Link didn’t understand how Ganondorf could ever think he’d be inclined to do something like that. It was boggling, and he was so… _casual_ about it, as if Link hadn’t spent the entirety of his short, adult life fighting him with everything he had, as if he hadn’t forcibly ejected him from the safety of his forest home after _murdering_ the Great Deku Tree.

“You’ve got a lot of nerve, you know,” Link snapped, hastening his walk to fall in step beside him again. Ganondorf glanced down, utterly unimpressed.

“So I’ve been told.”

“You can’t just burn half of Hyrule and then up and suggest something like that.”

“A simple no would have sufficed, Link. Your insistence on the issue suggests otherwise.”

“Wha— That’s ridiculous!”

“I agree.”

They arrived at the bedroom and Link was more angry and flustered than ever, feeling another powerful urge to kick him. Ganondorf lashed him to a nearby bed poll before he had the chance. He cast Link a knowing smirk before walking away to take his turn in the bathroom. Link threw a hand gesture at his back that Navi would have swatted him for. Actually, in this context, maybe she wouldn’t have.

The man was completely unbearable.

Link violently turned his back to the bathroom doorway, sitting on the bed and crossing his arms. Hopefully his sweaty body marred the sheets and ruined Ganondorf’s stupid, spiced perfume. He was such an _ass_. Link’s face pinched, further souring as he thought of what the Sages would say, what _Zelda_ would say.

No. Absolutely not.

He figured Ganondorf was still just messing with him anyways. He couldn’t really want to do something like that, not with him. It… didn’t make any sense. They hated each other.

Link scoffed quietly to himself, glaring at a random corner of the room. It was irritating how untethered the mere suggestion left him feeling. He didn’t understand how a person could entertain such an idea about someone while simultaneously despising them, even as a joke.

He felt dwarfed by his own naivety, wondering if he was missing something. A feeling sharp and angry bubbled thick inside him, full of bitterness. It was Ganondorf’s fault he was stuck with such a poor understanding of these things. He’d barely had time or space to consider kissing people he actually liked thanks to all of his devious machinations running him ragged in Hyrule. And now, when he had no chance of experience that sort of thing, he wanted to suggest—

Link bit the thought off before it could complete, mashing the inside of his cheek between his teeth. It was a ridiculous idea. Offensive. Once the Sages pulled him out, he could live out the rest of his life like a normal adult, maybe even go back to Lon Lon Ranch and work there until he got the nerve to talk to a red-head he _actually_ liked.

Spite kept him thinking of the more plaguing company he was saddled with, the way he always looked so immaculate in all that gold and clothes with his hair braided and long.

What a goddamn _asshole_.

Link realized he was bouncing his leg erratically and forced himself to still, noticing the tension laced throughout his entire upper body, and easing that as well. A long, quiet breath slipped past his lips, taking the wound up resentment with it. Unfortunately it left behind a wide maw of despair, and the haunting, unspoken hopelessness that he’d never actually get to escape this pit.

What if he was stuck here with Ganondorf forever?

Link shook his head, banishing the question. He couldn’t think of a more awful reality. He couldn’t think of a more terrible punishment for obeying the Goddesses.

By the time that hatefully familiar perfume wafted into the room, Link had lost himself to a swirling void of dismal thoughts. Ganondorf found the hero sitting brazenly on his bed, head hanging heavy in his hands. He didn’t move as Ganondorf wandered closer, not even when he stood directly in front of him. The Gerudo considered the small Hylian before him, the weary set to his shoulders and the way his ear twitched now and then. He looked utterly worn out, but, as Ganondorf whistled to get his attention and called up hard, frosty blue eyes, he remained yet undefeated.

It was an impressive degree of fortitude. Stubbornness didn’t really scratch the surface of what Link was capable of. Something about that felt deeply satisfying to his own ego.

“Your turn.” He smirked, standing closer than strictly necessary and enjoying the blush that came to the other’s face.

Link said nothing, keeping his glare steady as Ganondorf retracted the chain keeping him confined to his presence. The hero snaked from the bed, giving the towel-wrapped Gerudo a wide berth and pointedly keeping his eyes averted.

Ganondorf watched him walk away, enjoying the way his clothes hung low on his hips. Link didn’t look back at him, though he undoubtedly felt his stare, given the hunch to his shoulders. It was only when he secluded himself beyond view of the door that Ganondorf turned to the armoire, thoughts buzzing like an overactive hive.

Hyrule’s great hero was proving more receptive than he had originally anticipated.

By his assessment, Link possessed the gumption to face him head-on in battle, but turned into a skittish foal at the mere thought of physical intimacy. With a practiced hand, it was something that could be tamed and shaped. Regardless of where things stood with acquiring his Triforce piece, there were more basic pleasures that could be taken from him. After all, an eternity was such a long thing to endure alone.

Ganondorf didn’t try to dispel the grin lifting his face, thinking of how angry Link was determined to be. As if he could miss the stares that lingered just a little too long, or the petulance that belied denial. The untrained brat was as clueless as ever.

He may have defeated him in battle, but there were other, more obscure arenas where he could put the boy in his place.

By the time Link emerged from the bathroom, his stoicism had re-rooted itself with a hardened air, as if he believed it possible to simply ignore the tension between them by pretending it wasn’t there. Ganondorf almost laughed, responding with an obvious leer at the flowing fabrics that hugged his frame more generously than that hideous tunic could ever hope to achieve. Link went red as the setting sun, crossing his arms and trying to pull his shirt down farther without success.

Ganondorf watched him struggle, and it was enormously funny… until it wasn’t.

Link was flustered, angry, and above all confused, visibly out of his depth. It was all so ridiculous it began to sour the enjoyment of it. A rare inkling of pity sent his amber eyes sky high. With a heaving sigh, Ganondorf walked over to the armoire, ignoring the way Link hunched away from him and backed out of reach. He plucked a small robe from one of the shelves, turning to the bereft hero.

“Come here.”

It was clear Link didn’t trust him in the slightest. Ganondorf indulged his paranoia and held up the long piece of clothing, smirking at the way Link’s expression broke from suspicion to surprise. He inched closer, getting only as close as strictly necessary before snatching the article out of his hands. Ganondorf watched with no small degree of amusement as Link hastily put the knee-length robe on, tying the sash incorrectly around his waist to keep it closed. Ganondorf resolved to teach him the correct knot later when he didn’t jump at the slightest breach of contact.

“… Thank you,” Link mumbled, fiddling with an edge of the deeply-colored cloth.

Ganondorf grunted in response, quickly making a fluid motion in the air to call back the chain that bound him, just so they didn’t get too comfortable. Link was more than a pretty face, and Ganondorf was no fool to the wily ways of the heart. The hero tolerated his confinement more easily, only a tired sort of glare lingering in his eyes. They left the room in silence.

A warm fire rose high in the library hearth, cultivating an atmosphere of comfort that jarred against the unspoken stiffness drawn between its occupants. As antagonizing as he’d been earlier, Ganondorf was now determined to wholly ignore the younger man, a book held up like a wall to block out his place on the floor nearby.

Link alternated between staring at the fire and staring at the inconsistent villain behind him, wondering about the man’s strange code of conduct.

Ganon had a quality to him every bit as beastly as the demon boar he’d fought amidst the rubble of Hyrule Castle. More than that, Link had not— and would not— forget the pain of hanging limp on the whipping frame, or starving under callous eyes. But Ganondorf wasn’t limited to the demon inside him. That would be too easy. Link couldn’t always be sure when his behavior was ruled by a hardened volatility, but there was no denying the moments, small and few, which betrayed a sense of humanity under his broader cruelty. It was… bewildering. Link wasn’t quite sure what to do with it.

Human or not, Ganondorf had committed countless crimes that ruined the lives of untold people, his own included. It’s exactly why they were here. Or at least why _he_ was here. Ganondorf was serving the punishment for his crimes. Link had just been unwitting enough to get dragged along.

The material of the robe glided like water between his fingers, colored a deep blue like the icy caverns he once traversed in the frozen Zora Domain. He glared at it, tired of the expression but unable to be free of it. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt safe, or even particularly happy. All that existed was the constant ache of homesickness, and the perpetually simmering resentment between him and his warden.

Link fiddled with the edge of the robe again.

He supposed there was a chance, small as it may be, that they didn’t have to resent each other all the time. If Ganondorf could connect with the sliver of humanity still alive inside, Link could muster the courage to acknowledge it, maybe even encourage it. It had the potential to ease their adversarial tensions. Maybe it could make day-to-day life here just a little more bearable, at least until the Sages came to retrieve him.

But for fucks sake that didn’t mean he was going to _kiss_ the man.

***

The fire crackled warm and quiet in the thickest part of night. It’s glow swam hazily in Link’s vision. For a long while, he was caught in the strange limbo between waking and dreams. Groggy awareness slowly dragged him from the recesses of sleep. He wasn’t sure why he was waking up, or what woke him, but he thought he heard his name. Now he couldn’t be sure if it was just a dream.

Link shifted on the hard floor, wincing as a few sore spots ached in response. He rubbed a palm against his eyes, staring blearily at the fire and wondering why he was awake.

Then he heard it again.

It _was_ his name, spoken in the most quiet whisper he’d ever heard, low and wrought through with something unfamiliar.

The hair on his arms raised high. His stomach reacted more quickly than his mind, flipping and bottoming out. A creeping sensation rapidly traveled up his spine as other sounds became more present, a rhythmic panting and something wet.

_“... haah… haah…… ngh, fuck…”_

Link’s eyes were wide open now, everything inside him more awake than it had ever been. Despite the blaring alarms, he remained stone still on the floor, made of the same granite he lied upon. The heavy breathing behind him filled every square inch of the air, air which was becoming increasingly more hot and suffocating. He knew without a shadow of doubt what was happening behind him, he knew—

_“Link…”_

Goosebumps erupted all over his body, his breath turning shallow. Everything inside him wanted to scream, but he couldn’t move. Ganondorf sighed his name again, this time groaning. It was the most salacious sound he’d ever heard, filling the entirety of his eardrums. Link was left paralyzed, panicked. He didn’t know what to do.

He didn’t think Ganondorf knew he was awake. Link wasn’t entirely sure what the man would do if he found out, and he didn’t want to know. He didn’t want him to realize he was listening, listening to every implicating catch in his breath. Another deep sigh filled the air, shameless and rung through with such satisfaction Link felt it down his own spine. It turned warm, traveled farther, curling up in the space above his twitching cock.

Link stopped breathing, forcing his erection to stop _immediately._ He would _not_ get hard by this. Disgust and horror reigned high, but couldn’t quite smother the electric current that began to race directly to his groin every time the larger man whispered his name. His cock twitched traitorously again, responding to the budding warmth. Link dug his nails into his face, just barely choking back a horrified whine.

He needed it to be _over_. The breathy pants behind him were kept low, as though Ganondorf hadn’t intended to wake him. It didn’t matter at this point. Link couldn’t focus on anything else. He listened to the way his breathing increased, becoming shorter and shorter as it built to a crescendo, all to his name. The bed creaked as he moved on it, touching himself right behind him. Link squeezed his eyes shut, begging his own cock to stop reacting, to stop _hardening_. 

Ganondorf whispered his name again, full of an unfamiliar wanting, and Link bit the inside of his cheek so hard he tasted blood. His erection pulsed beneath thin pants. Behind him, the heated panting was coming to a head. Seconds felt like hours, and every sound had reached a deafening volume in his head.

Link knew the exact moment when Ganondorf came. The pants turned into a series of deep, smothered groans, as if he were pressing his face into a pillow, which Link did _not_ imagine with crystal clarity in his head. Soon the sounds came to a stuttering halt. All that was left in the wake of silence was his slow, deep breathing, like the tides of Lake Hylia rolling against the bank.

Desperately trying to keep his pounding heart quiet, Link struggled to take in air fully. He listened to Ganondorf sigh and move off the bed. If he glanced over at Link and thought he was too still, too tense to be sleeping, he didn’t give any indication. Soft footsteps padded over to the bathroom. After a brief moment and the sounds of splashing water, Ganondorf returned to the bed, sheets rustling as he settled comfortably.

Until the breathing behind him was one of rhythmic sleep, Link didn’t dare move. The fire continued to crackle calmly, heedless to the internal frenzy still running rampant in Link’s mind. He shifted his hips uncomfortably against the warm granite, feeling the awkward, dulling stiffness die down between his legs. Though the moment was over, his heart continued to pound, a new kind of misery mixing in with the horror.

Link didn’t want to think about what any of it meant. He didn’t want to think about how far beyond kissing this went, or why he’d failed to realize where such intentions could go. He especially didn’t want to think about how he’d reacted to the whole situation. He wanted nothing more than to forget this whole night ever happened.

The Sages would come soon, and Link could pretend he never got hard to the thought of Ganondorf touching him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we finally get to the sexy bits! Sorta. 
> 
> Also, just to throw my unsolicited thoughts out there, I don't jive with the idea that Link has the mind of a literal child after his seven year sleep. My take is that his mind has grown just as much as his body, and I don't mean in terms of experience, cause he definitely only has the experience of a 10 year old after Rauru kicks him out of the Temple of Time (poor baby), but I think being grown enough to wield the Master Sword means more than just physical strength. I tried to delve into that a bit in the last chapter, and hopefully I was mostly successful... Either way, how a child sees the world and interprets suffering/sacrifice is going to be different than how an adult sees it. I like to explore Link's coconut as he confronts more 'adult' issues (and I don't mean sex that part is just hilarious). 
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed this chapter!! Thanks for reading!


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Behold. There be more masturbation in these waters.

The Sages did not come the next morning.

Link barely slept after the night’s late festivities, only managing to drift off when the fire grew brighter to mock his efforts. Ganondorf rose as swiftly as always, and Link could picture him rising with the sun in his desert homeland. Not that he wanted to be picturing Ganondorf. In any capacity.

The Gerudo King milled about the room with the same quiet consideration as he normally did, never in a rush. Link listened to the sounds of water in the bathroom, and then the pull of a brush, idle humming of a tune Nabooru once sang, and then the click of the armoire. Link just laid there listening to all of this, to this quiet domestication, as if everything was normal. As if an alarming number of things hadn’t been put into question during the long night.

Link rubbed his hand against his eyes, feeling overworked. It didn’t have to be a big deal if he didn’t make it a big deal. He’d gotten hard at stranger things before, and regardless, it probably meant nothing. Stress and fatigue did strange things to one’s mind, and he was nothing if not constantly stressed and fatigued by Ganondorf.

“Are you still sleeping?” a deep voice chuckled above him. Link tensed immediately.

“No.”

It took Link a moment to realize he was going to have to turn around eventually. He couldn’t lay on the hearth all day and pretend he didn’t have a forest of problems. Link forced himself to turn around, his back cracking in protest. It was loud enough to make Ganondorf wince.

“You know, my invitation to use the bed still stands.”

A deep flush stole across Link’s face, reaching down to his neck as he thought about being so close while the other masturbated.

“Absolutely not,” He muttered.

Ganondorf shrugged.

“Suit yourself.”

Ganondorf held out a hand. Link glared before taking hold, being pulled into another day of hell.

Breakfast was quieter than usual, which is to say it was absolutely silent. They sat across from one another, the chain lying across the table between them. Link had yet to look Ganondorf in the face, afraid he might see him in a different light, given the events of last night. Ganondorf, for his part, was constantly shooting him narrow-eyed stares, judging everything from his silence to his posture. Link knew he should try harder to pretend everything was normal, but he felt so far from the realm of ‘normal’ that he couldn’t remember how to act.

They made it through nearly the entire meal before reaching the inevitable confrontation.

“What’s wrong with you?” Ganondorf asked brusquely.

“Nothing,” Link snapped too quickly, defenses readied. “I just want to go home. Forgive me for not being so chipper in _your_ prison.”

Ganondorf narrowed his eyes further.

“You’re being antagonistic.”

“So?” Link scowled, glancing at him briefly and glaring back at his plate. “We don’t like each other. I can be antagonistic.”

“True, but it’s not like you. … Something’s different.”

Thinned patience had little resolve to maintain composure. Link slammed his hands on the table.

“ _Nothing_ is different!”

Ganondorf leaned back slightly and blinked. Link felt himself halt, taken aback by his own lack of control, and then glared more furiously, mostly at himself. He jammed his cheek against a propped hand, pushing food around on his plate. Now Ganondorf would never let it go. The older man was quiet for a long moment.

“… Did something happen?”

“What could possibly have happened? I’m just… irritable. It’s fine. You’re irritable all the time.”

“My, my, you get mean when you’re trying to hide something.” A grin unfurled across Ganondorf’s face. “I think I rather like it.”

Link stabbed a potato. A dirt potato. The potato flipped off his fork after a particularly unwieldy stab, skittering across the floor. Link stared at his plate, trying to school his expression as the blush mounted. He had nothing more to say. He was pretty sure anything past this point would only lead to self-incrimination.

Ganondorf pegged him with a calculating stare, watching his blush deepen as the silence stretched on. Then it clicked.

“Ah. … How did you sleep last night, Link?”

Not even his internal screaming could drown out the knowing tone lilting his question. Link felt as paralyzed as he’d been during the night. The hand pressed against his cheek slowly moved up to tangle into his hair, at a loss on how to answer.

“Soundly, I suppose?” Ganondorf continued to razz, clearly enjoying himself. “No disruptions? Nothing too… _arousing?_ ”

“You’re a complete _ass_ , you know that?”

Ganondorf burst into laughter, filling the small kitchen. Link did not enjoy his sense of humor and found nothing so amusing.

“Did you enjoy the show, Hero?”

“Wha-I didn’t _watch_!” Link spluttered, utterly scandalized.

“No, you were exceptionally quiet,” Ganondorf agreed, looking impressed. “I didn’t even realize you were awake.”

“That was the point,” Link groused, a dark scowl sharpening his expression.

Ganondorf leaned forward, putting his muscled arms on the table.

“Want to know what I was thinking about?”

“ _No._ ”

“Are you sure?”

“Ganondorf, _stop_.”

“… Hm.” Miraculously, he leaned back, holding his crass tongue, though his smirk didn’t lessen in the slightest. “Fine. Keep your dull propriety. Know it’s a wasted sentiment here, though.”

“I won’t be here forever. It doesn’t matter.”

“ _Still_ holding out on the Sages?” He scoffed. “I don’t understand why you waste your loyalties on them. They’re beyond our reach, yet still you insist on constraining yourself for their sake.”

Link narrowed his eyes.

“I am not _constraining_ myself. You’re implying an interest that doesn’t exist.”

“That blush says otherwise.”

“We’re done talking about this.”

Ganondorf leaned back, still grinning with entirely too much satisfaction. Link cast him a dour glare, deciding then and there that he wouldn’t entertain whatever bizarre attraction the other was trying to initiate. He would just ignore it. Eventually he’d be free of him, and then the problem would resolve itself.

They made their way to the sparring arena, and Link pretended Ganondorf wasn’t silently laughing at him the entire way there. He was now deeply grateful for the wooden staff, and much less afraid of the threat of broken hands as the cost for whacking his exhausting companion. Unfortunately the man moved out of the way before he could get a good hit, possibly suspecting Link’s intentions. The sparring dummy therefore bore the brunt of his frustrations, which only seemed to be increasing.

It wasn’t enough to languish without word from his friends, now he had his greatest enemy playing asinine mind games. Link cracked the staff against the head of the dummy. It was ridiculous. He hit the head of the dummy again. As if he would _ever_ be interested in something like that. Link used the end of the staff to vault over the dummy, landing on the opposite side and spinning around to attack its midsection. The chain rattled with his every movement. Link gnashed his teeth together, swinging the staff more furiously.

He was _not_ constraining himself. 

At one point Link glanced over at Ganondorf, stormy in thought, and had to pause despite himself. The Gerudo man wasn’t paying him the slightest bit of attention, which was the only reason Link felt safe to stare. He wielded two glittering scimitars, each with long, fire-colored ribbons trailing from the hilts. The swords swung in graceful arcs, twisting under each other in flowing formations that betrayed years of practiced swordplay. It was nothing like Link’s wild, impulsive style. Sheik had tried to establish proper technique in him, but all that resulted was a poor amalgamation of basic Sheikah form honed and bastardized by a desperate need to survive against foes thrice his size. What Ganondorf was doing looked more like a deadly dance.

The Gerudo King wasn’t focused on showy displays of strength or power. This was a more graceful demonstration of restraint. Link watched with a determinedly bland expression, following the slow, languid movements. His grip around the staff relaxed marginally. Ganondorf moved like a great serpent. The potential of a threat still lurked below, but it was softened by the rhythmic swordplay. It was power and control in the same movement, directed inward instead of imposed outward, for once.

Link narrowed his eyes again.

He returned to the dummy, wanting to sink back into his own anger but having a harder time now. Resentment that felt bleak had stolen across his mood like a stale wind. He begrudged Ganondorf for indulging in his more bestial nature when he was clearly capable of more. If he had simply chosen to be more human than monster, Link would be home in his tree house blessedly clueless to the rest of the world. They could have avoided this reality. They could have avoided all of it.

The staff grew heavier in his hands. An invisible weight settled across his shoulders. He found himself staring at the beaten dummy, his sparring weapon held limp against the ground. An acute sense of powerlessness was creeping up his spine like a slow growing lichen. It wasn’t a feeling he indulged often, but here, it constantly lied in wait, always threatening to overwhelm him.

Destiny had driven all of his choices since leaving the forest, bright eyed and eager. Its weight had grown more terrible with every new kind of suffering imposed on others and himself, until it landed him here, where he didn’t have a choice at all. Link felt tired in a way that no amount of sleep could cure, trapped and weary of forces even more overwhelming than his brutish companion. He was tired of constantly feeling like a child, embarrassingly out of his depth. He was tired of feeling so powerless.

Link scratched idly at the back of his left hand, wishing for a real sword and the sing of metal to silence the plaguing thoughts. The dummy stood silent and unhelpful before him, wooden in every way.

If the Sages didn’t come soon he was going to go mad, just as Ganondorf said.

“Link.”

The deep timbre of his voice broke through festering thoughts with all the gentleness of a wayward bombchu, despite its mild tone. The young hero startled more than he wanted to, casting an accusing glare up at Ganondorf. He stood closer than Link thought necessary, staring at him, one fiery eyebrow cocked expectantly.

“… What?” Link snapped. It was annoying how often Ganondorf wanted him to speak.

The larger man narrowed his eyes, contemplating the merits of smacking him for his insolence, but then decided against it. Ganondorf held up the end of Link’s iron leash, making it clear that they were leaving the arena. The pit of bitterness in the hero’s gut hardened as he silently followed the other out the door.

They walked for a time before Ganondorf began needling.

“You’re brooding.”

Link felt an ear twitch, glancing at the mane of red hair in front of him. He had to force out a response, knowing the other wouldn’t be content with silence.

“I suppose.”

They walked for a little longer. The stone hallways were dark and suffocating in their sameness, even with Ganondorf’s attempt at adding a more lived in touch. The strain in their silence grew with every step.

Before they made it to the bedroom, Ganondorf released a long-suffering sigh, stopping suddenly in the hallway. Link came up short behind him, leaning back as the larger man turned around and put his hands on his hips, towering over him with an irritated expression.

“Your sullen silence is more obnoxious than your regular silence.”

Link opened his mouth, wholly offended, but Ganondorf wasn’t done.

“I understand you’re miserable here. As shocking as it may be to hear, I’m not exactly having the time of my life either. _Nevertheless_ —“ He bulldozed past whatever Link was going to interrupt him with, “—we’re stuck here together, and since you seem determined to remain belligerently obtuse, I have to insist that you find a way to relax before I throttle you.”

Link stared at him, stumped into a silence that was equal parts outraged, surprised, and confused.

“I— what do you expect me to do?” he forced out.

“I expect you to handle yourself. Or better yet,” His hard expression turned dangerous in an unfamiliar way, one that had Link’s stomach flipping again. “Drop your moral chastity and let me do it.”

“You— what?” Link’s voice cracked, his face flushing red. He didn’t really know what Ganondorf was getting at, but it sounded much more provocative than kissing the man.

Whatever reaction he was looking for, he seemed to be getting it. The dangerous smirk on his face widened, turning smooth and licentious. He loomed closer, getting much closer than Link was comfortable with. The blush deepened as his amber eyes roved downward. When he spoke, it was with a tone that erupted waves of goosebumps across his exposed skin.

“Next time you wake up and hear me touching myself to your name, maybe don’t be so silent, hm?”

“N-next time?” Link most certainly did _not_ squeak.

“Or better yet,” Ganondorf moved a hand as if to touch his hair. Link immediately reacted, snapping out to catch the man’s wrist before it could make contact. Ganondorf glanced at the halted motion, a newfound element of intrigue alighting across his face. He smoothed over the aborted move and continued speaking.

“Better yet...” Though he didn’t push to touch, his tone was more indecent than Link had ever heard it. “We can go into the bedroom right now, and I can work out all that obnoxious brooding tension myself.”

The skin under Link’s grip burned. He stared at Ganondorf with wide eyes, speechless at the absolute lack of shame in his heated gaze. Something playful danced in the expression, but Link was feeling anything but playful at the moment. His throat was bone dry as he tried to formulate a response, not able to manage much beyond a tremulous shake of his head.

“Hm.” Ganondorf looked disappointed, but not the least bit surprised, flicking his wrist out of Link’s grip. “Maybe next time then.”

He pulled him along the rest of the way, pushing him towards the bathroom. Link was still struggling to get his legs to work properly in conjunction with his brain as they moved. He barely noticed as Ganondorf left him by the bed, going to wash himself as though it were any normal day and he hadn’t just propositioned himself. Link swallowed thickly, eyes trailing over to the bed where he pictured the other man laid out, moving smooth as serpent, controlled like his swords. He snapped his eyes away, the heat in his face unbearable.

The blush had barely eased by the time Ganondorf returned, a towel wrapped tight around his waist and everything else exposed, as usual. He pressed another towel against his long, red hair, pinning Link with an unimpressed stare.

“I still expect you to do something about the sour tension you insist on carrying around. It’s suffocating.”

Link opened his mouth to argue, but nothing came out. He snapped his jaw shut. Ganondorf released him from the chain, moving idly towards the armoire. Link turned away, listening to the damp towel fall to the floor with a heavy thump.

“I’ll give you some time alone in the bath. I don’t want your company as it is now, anyway.”

Link bristled, and then felt baffled by his own reaction. He didn’t care if Ganondorf found his company tedious. Ganondorf was tedious. Link squeezed his hands into fists, remaining silent. The other dressed swiftly, taking a moment to sift through the pile of papers on his desk and picking up a worn, leather bound book he often wrote in. Before leaving, he paused in the doorway, getting the other’s attention and casting him a deadpan stare.

“And just because I know how thick you are at innuendo, I’m giving you a chance to masturbate here. Don’t waste it.”

Link thought it was impressive that he managed to contain the screaming going on in his head, only outwardly reacting by taking a sharp inhale of breath and going even more tense than Ganondorf had been accusing him of. The insufferable man smirked before he left, a brief swish of his hand leaving smoky black bars across the doorway in his wake.

For a frozen moment, Link was too much of a mess to move. He was alone for the first time in what felt like months, and couldn’t even manage to feel relief. All that radiated out was the sensation of being vaguely unhinged, or perhaps completely unhinged. He could not stop thinking of the way Ganondorf’s deep voice curled around his ear, or of the wild fluttering that pooled into low warmth as he suggested obscene ideas, ideas Link wasn’t entirely sure what to do with.

The safest thing to do was ignore them completely. Unfortunately, Link never had much of a mind for safety.

With an ashen expression, he turned and forced himself to walk to the bathroom. Every step felt like it was followed by judgmental eyes sneering at what dared to cross his mind. He should have taken this opportunity to poke around the bedroom for a way to escape, or maybe try to hide a weapon or two. Link knew there were other things he should be doing, but all he really wanted to do was take a bath and possibly drown himself.

So he walked to the bathroom and stripped off his clothes, sinking into blessedly warm water that did nothing to kill the stirred pulsing below his navel.

He didn’t actually plan on touching himself in Ganondorf’s bathroom, but then, he generally didn’t plan anything at all. Things just sort of happened. That’s why his hand wandered so searchingly in the water while he kept his mind carefully blank. Link hesitated at the course line of pubic hair, waiting for the punchline to drop, or for Navi to appear out of nowhere giggling. Now would be the ideal time for the Sages to come, of course.

But no one came. Not even Ganondorf.

He was alone.

A quiet gasp slipped out when Link took himself into his hands, heart hammering inside his chest. Familiar anxiety bled in as he braced his other hand against the edge of the basin. It was difficult to relax at first. He had it in his mind to get it done as quickly as possible, partially horrified with himself that he was doing it at all. The fear and self-recrimination did nothing for the erection already dying down below the water, so he took a deep breath, and sank lower into the pool.

Steaming water hovered just below his chin as he let himself explore, squeezing his eyes shut because it was still hard to shut out all the outside voices. He wanted to do this. Maybe not here, maybe it wasn’t exactly ideal, but he was tired of being so shy around his own body, of still being that pitiable, clueless adult. He was just… _tired._ He couldn’t control much of his situation, but if Ganondorf was going to so blatantly grant him the opportunity for privacy, he wasn’t going to be stupid enough to spurn it.

Link stared down through clear water as he stroked his growing erection, trying to relax the muscles in his face and then down his body. Soft sensations of pleasure rippled here and there as his ears remained on high alert for the smallest sound beyond the doorway. Gradually, his explorations deepened and he forgot to be so concerned about the outside world. He sank ever lower in the water, gasping quietly as warm sensations flared and bloomed with each newer touch.

He kept a steady pressure down the shaft, letting hazy images and thoughts float across his mind as the pleasure inspired them, feeding a collective warmth. His breathing was rendered more shallow when visions of Malon danced behind his eyes, her long red hair just barely brushing across the curve of her lower back. He found himself thinking of Sheik’s intense red-eyed stare too, when he was just Sheik and nothing else confusing. He’d once marveled quietly at the way his fluid body moved with such control and grace, firm in places where Malon was soft.

Thoughts of him proved too complicated to hold up, though. A grimace bit across his face as he couldn’t forget how Sheik and Zelda were one and the same, bringing too much baggage to the moment.

Link shook his head, thinking once more of Malon, her soft curves and red hair. A groan crawled out when he used both hands, pulling and palming the head of his cock with each stroke. He curled over his hips slightly, rolling into the motions and stirring the water around him. It lapped at the edge of the basin, filling in the space between his breathy pants.

He imagined Malon touching him, as she liked to hint at, putting her lips on places that had his cock thrumming with pleasure. He imagined she wouldn’t be gentle, having more of a demanding, compelling nature, one he could wrestle against until the sensations proved too much and one of them ended up on top. It was a hazy sort of fantasy, symptomatic of his lacking experience.

In the frenzy of chasing pleasure, Malon’s round hips sometimes changed to Sheik’s sharp ones, the mounded softness of her chest occasionally shifting to muscular planes, always just briefly enough to skirt the plaguing aspects of his memory and stay focused on the physical.

Soon the building sensations were enough to carry on without focusing too much on the fantasy. Only fragmented images came, soft skin, a rough push, red hair, powerful muscles. Link bit his lip as the rush skirted the edge of release, combining the pressure of his hands with a flurry of overwhelming thoughts, of being held down, and kissed, and touched—

The orgasm came suddenly and Link cried out in surprise, catching the moan and choking it back as a wild, powerful release of pressure ran through him for a blinding moment and then expelled below the water. He gasped and panted, shivering before realizing he was half out of the water. The moment had come and gone quickly, more-so than Link expected, and he wished it wasn’t so brief. Still, as the high came down and his breathing returned to normal, he couldn’t deny the relief of vented pressure, feeling slightly less tense than he’d been before.

Link sighed and sat back against the wall, putting a hand over his eyes. It was annoying that Ganondorf had been right to some degree, but he couldn’t pretend he wasn’t grateful for the privacy.

He sat like that for a while, marveling at the relative calm, marveling at what his life had become. Link dragged the hand down his face, pausing and then holding the offending appendage away with a slightly disgusted frown. He needed to bathe.

Before long he was clean and dressed and still alone in Ganondorf’s bedroom. It was quiet in the spacious, opulent room, and Link could appreciate the opportunity he had now. He didn’t expect to find much, but Ganondorf was an idiot if he thought Link wouldn’t poke around anyways.

Gold bangles sewn into the waistline if his Prussian blue pants tinkled together as he peeked into baskets and decorative chests, mostly finding empty space. The desk contained nothing but more paper and ink pens, and other journals filled with the scrawling Gerudo script he couldn’t read. Link held up a book and stared at it, flipping through the pages with a puzzled frown. He couldn’t begin to imagine what Ganondorf felt so compelled to write about. Link looked through it for a moment longer, eventually shrugging and tossing it back in a drawer. He was a strange man.

The chest at the foot of the bed proved more interesting than the ornamental ones around the room. For one, it was locked, and no amount of picking could break it open. Link pressed his eyes against the seam and eventually decided magic must be keeping it closed, which meant whatever was inside was important. Out of habit he made a mental note to come back to it, though when or why he didn’t know. It’s not like Ganondorf’s room was a temple puzzle he needed to break.

Link rolled his eyes at his own behavior, opening the bedside drawer. The items inside made him stop. He stared at them, trying to figure out what he was looking at. They weren’t weapons, probably, and they looked like… they looked…

His eyes trailed over to the small vial rolling beside them. Inside was a viscous liquid that had an intense perfume to it. Link frowned at the bead of oil on his finger and glanced back to the strange, oblong objects, a warmth coming to his face that he couldn’t explain. Carefully, he put the vial back and closed the drawer, deciding Ganondorf could keep some mysteries to himself.

In the end he found exactly what he expected, which was nothing.

Link sighed, falling back on the enormous bed. It was ridiculously comfortable. He wiggled his body against the fluffy comforter, marveling at its luxury. It was even softer than the moss-stuffed mattress from his old tree house, which was impressive. He’d spent a very long time collecting the softest moss he could find to make that small bed as a child.

For a brief moment of insanity, Link thought about Ganondorf’s invitation to sleep here. Then he thought about trying to sleep next to the man as he masturbated, whispering his name and writhing in the sheets.

Very quickly he scrambled up from the bed, feeling hot around the collar. Naturally this is when Ganondorf would decide to return.

“Feeling better?”

Link would never admit to the uncharacteristic yelp that may or may not have escaped his throat as he jumped and spun around. It was increasingly off-putting how easily Ganondorf could startle him. Ganondorf seemed to enjoy it immensely.

“Um—“ Link flummoxed for a response, scratching the back of his head and glancing back at the bed, trying to shake the image still besieging his mind. “Yes, actually. I— Thank you.”

He felt like an idiot. Ganondorf seemed to appreciate the gratitude though, looking somewhat surprised. He shrugged in response, wandering closer and leaning against a bed pole. The carefully blank expression took on a more devious flavor, and Link felt himself raise his hackles on instinct.

“Did you find anything interesting?” The large man asked, thick with a teasing mien. Of course he knew he’d searched the room.

“Uh…” Link thought immediately of the bizarre oblong objects and knew, without a doubt now, that they were very sexual in nature. Ganondorf’s expression said everything. His blush flamed deeper. “No.”

The large man looked like he knew exactly what Link stumbled across, which was great, because Link sure had no clue. The self-satisfied smirk on his face made Link want to hit him. Unfortunately he hadn’t found a single, viable weapon.

“What do you write about in all those journals?” Link asked instead, unable to keep the combativeness out of his voice. If Ganondorf was going to constantly poke fun at his naivety, Link was going to poke his nose more deeply into personal aspects of the man’s life and try to make him feel uncomfortable too.

The teasing expression quickly schooled into something less readable and more guarded. Link didn’t expect an answer based on the closed-off response, but apparently he was out to surprise him today.

“… They’re old Gerudo sonnets. I was required to memorize them as a child.”

“Sonnets?” Link stood straighter, curious despite himself. “Is that… Isn’t that poetry?”

“Yes.”

Link stared at him. Ganondorf stared back.

Apparently the King of Evil liked to write poetry.

“… Why did you have to memorize them as a child?”

“Do you always ask so many questions?”

Link frowned, shrugging aggressively. “You started it,” he muttered.

“Very mature, Hero.” Ganondorf rolled his eyes. Link thought about making a rude hand gesture again, but decided not to risk it. “My mothers insisted, if you must know. It’s tradition. They were always very attached to tradition.”

“You mean Koume and Kotake?” Link winced, feeling something too close to guilt sink inside him. Navi had told him they were Ganondorf’s mothers, but at the time, trying to fight for his life battling against them, he hadn’t really connected with what that meant until now.

“Yes.”

An uncomfortable silence stretched long between them, full of things unspoken. Link cracked his knuckles against his leg.

“I know you killed them, Link. I’m not an idiot.”

Ganondorf’s face was completely blank now, inscrutable. The feeling of guilt inside him deepened, which was ridiculous because Twinrova had tried to _kill him_. Still. Evil witches or not, they’d been Ganondorf’s mothers, and Link knew well the pain of losing a parental figure. Because of the man in front of him, in fact.

An unnamable mess of confusion bubbled sluggishly in his gut, thick with anger, and old hurt, and empathy. Link narrowed his eyes and glanced away, unable to formulate words to ease the moment. Ganondorf sighed across from him, pushing off the bed pole and waving his hand in the air. The chain returned between them, dragging heavy at Link’s neck.

“Come. It’s occurred to me that you know nothing of the old sonnets, and if you are indeed an honorary member of the Tribe, that needs to be rectified.”

He led with more gentleness than Link expected, bringing them to the fire-lit library in calm silence. In his other hand was the book Link had paged through. Once the captured hero was settled in a bed of pillows before the hearth, Ganondorf opened the journal. He began reading aloud the history of a desert people, told more richly and more passionately than Link had ever heard it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HOKAY. Hope you all enjoyed this update. :) Unfortunately, we have caught up to the chapters that are throughly edited and ready to post. The next one...man, the next one is on the struggle bus. I've got things written out up to chapter 20, but that doesn't mean they're /good/. The next chapter in particular is making my life difficult. Important things happen and I want to do them justice. I'm gonna post chapters 15 and 16 together, cause they go together, and I'll most them THE MOMENT I finish editing ch 15. God damn that ch 15. Thank the stars I have a kick ass beta. T__T
> 
> On another note (wow I'm chatty today), my family and I are beginning the process of moving TO THE HILLS OF KENTUCKY. It's our first time selling a house and buying at the same time, and I'm the lucky adult responsible for...well most of it. Ugh. So updates are probably gonna be a little slower from here on out.
> 
> Good news is that I'm at the point in my life where I understand fanfiction is beloved passion of mine, that it's here to stay, and I no longer feel embarrassed by how much I love it. So I can confidently say I won't be abandoning this story in any capacity. Hell, I'll probably be 80 years old still writing Zelda fanfiction. This beautiful shit is a hyperfixation that's 20+ years strong. I love these characters...I....I love them so much. TT___TT
> 
> Okay that's it! Hot damn!


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